Tortured Mind
by plkphoto
Summary: WIP. A look into the history of a killer, the heart of a survivor, and the mind of a scientist. An interpretive piece for the miniature serial killer arc. GSR. Natalie. Spoilers: Living Doll, Dead Doll, the MSK episodes, and anything season 7 or earlier.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **This is only my second fanfic longer than a drabble and my first chapter fic, so any feedback, good or bad, would be greatly appreciated.

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**PROLOGUE**

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**Des-ert:** (Dez' ert; n) A region so arid that it supports only sparse and widely spaced vegetation or no vegetation at all... A dry, barren, treeless region, usually sandy. (Excerpt from _Webster's Encyclopedic Unabridged Dictionary of the English Language_)

**Desert:** An arid biome occupying approximately 20 of the land surface of the earth in which water loss due to evaporation and transpiration by plants exceeds precipitation during most of the year. (Molles, _Ecology: Concepts and Applications_)

**Desert:** A general term for an extremely dry habitat, especially one where water is unavailable for plant growth most of the year; in particular, a habitat with long periods of water stress and sparse coverage by plants, often with perennials covering less that 10 of the total area. (Brown and Lomolino, _Biogeography_)

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The desert, by definition a dry desolate area, lacking in life, an environment of threat and inhospitality, a place to avoid. Perceived as a constant, eternally dry, hot, barren area; but in reality an ever-changing landscape, predictable only in its unpredictability. Dry shifting to wet, hot to cold, barren to blooming, and back again. Shifting, changing, in the blink of an eye, in the course of a day.

Water. Lifeblood to the desert. So fickle. Winter rains fall gently, seeping into the land, coaxing life from the seeds lying dormant in the sand, and the desert blooms. Barren waste is transformed into a glorious riot of colour and smell. Local rains create heterogeneity, patches of desert team with life as birds, insects, and a multitude of other creatures flock to the newly growing bounty; but the patches between these oases remain dry and desolate, seemingly devoid of life.

Summer monsoons fall heavily, bringing lightning and fire to the desert. Water pounds down on the desiccated earth, compacting the sand, creating a barrier to absorption, running over the surface of the land, erosion unstopped by the roots of life that have yet to grow. Water gathers momentum and volume as it cascades from higher areas, pouring off hills and mountains, ripping through the desert, stripping rocks and trees in a muddy slide, carrying anything in its path to their death. Water, which should bring life, flows away, leaving behind a wasteland even more desolate than before. As the sun and heat return, what little water remains behind is baked from the land, wind carrying the moisture away, releasing grains of sand. The land reverts to desert.

And Las Vegas grew up in the middle of the desert... An oasis on the trail through the arid Southwest.

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**TBC**


	2. Chapter 1

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Adrenaline faded as the coyote trotted away in response to the rumbling thunder. Sara slowly sank back down, relieving the pressure on her shoulder. As the immediate threat diminished, the drug, temporarily overshadowed by her body's chemical response to fear, began to reassert itself and she dropped into a dazed stupor, eyes staring, blinking only in response to the flashing lightning.

Time passed slowly... The low rumbles and growls of the approaching storm became sharp cracks and booms, the vague glow of lightning became distinct daggers traced through the dark sky. Disjointed images, memories entwined with a surreal version of reality. _Grissom... A woman buried alive, helicopter blades whipping the dust into a frenzy, a hand on her cheek... morphing into a razor sharp stone at her throat, Grissom's eyes burning into hers... His hand grasping hers, keeping her from drowning in her tears and her memories... Nick buried alive, contemplating a gun, but found, brought back to life...Grissom taking her home, his home, holding her... A warm shower... Bruno licking her hand, the drool running down her wrist... Pressure on her arms, and an echo from the past, "Pin me down." ... Another voice, Nick's maybe, ringing through time, "How do you drown in the desert?"_

The cold drops of rain splashing up to hit her slowly cleared the remaining drug haze from her mind. Pools were forming around the car and rain was gushing down, filling them quickly. Sara could feel the water seeping in around the edges of the car, filling the spaces under her body. As the as the pools turned to rivers, Sara's hazy wits began to recover, noting limbs pinned by metal, not his hands, and she struggled as she realized that she soon wouldn't be able to stretch high enough to breathe. To survive.

As the rain continued to sheet down around her, lightning strikes caused the sky to glow in quick bursts then fade into deeper darkness as the thunder boomed.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**1981**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"That's very good, Chloe! Come here Princess!"

"Daddy, when's Mommy coming home?"

"Natalie, I told you. Mommy's not coming home. She went away to another place. Please stop talking about her, and practice your song."

"I don't want to."

"Natalie, you have to practice. You can't carry a tune."

"Daddy, I'll practice more. I like singing. Nattie doesn't have to, I'll do it!"

"I know you like it, Princess. That's why you're Daddy's special girl."

"I love you Daddy."

"Love you too, Baby... Natalie, please practice. I want you both to come on stage with me next week. I can't afford a baby-sitter, and Grandma and Grandpa are busy. I've got a chance to open for a great magician. This could be my big break! I need you to practice."

"I don't like it, Daddy."

"Please, Natalie, you need to practice!"

"NO!"

**Flash**

CDs covering the floor. Reflected rainbows glittering on the walls. Chloe, blond hair covering her face, cowering in her father's lap, his arms around her. Dark eyes penetrating, angry. Blue flowers on the curtains drooping behind him, blue rug with a dark stain near his feet. The light of the rainbows mocking her, twisting around her, making the room spin...

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**One Week Later**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Okay, you don't have to sing, Natalie, but you need to come out on stage with me. Chloe and Dolly will do the singing. Let's go."

**Flash**

Coloured spotlights flashing over a black shiny surface, steam billowing up from below, thousands of people, a rainbow teaming with brightly coloured shirts, cheering and screaming. Swirling colours blurring together, the cheers becoming a continuous drone. Light fading to blackness.

"Daddy! Daddy! Something's wrong with Nattie! She fell over!"

"Looks like it's just us, Princess... This nice man will help Natalie, are you ready to sing?"

"Yes, Daddy. I'm ready!"

"Okay, here we go."

**x.x.x.x**

"They loved you, Doll Face! You were wonderful!"

"Daddy, where's Nattie?"

"She went to the doctor, Sweetie. Look, the newspaper man wants to take a picture of you, you were so special! Why don't you sit on my lap with Dolly, and we'll get a good picture."

"Love you, Daddy."

"Love you, too, Princess."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Earlier Today**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The chiming major chords of the slot machines, the happy clinking of change won, the constant flashing of bright lights and banners -- it all seemed nicely normal after their brief glimpse into the life and mind of the man who had sired the most unique serial killer he had ever investigated, outstripping even Milander. _What would it have been like for her, six years old, seeing her sister die then dealing with her father's own break from reality? Would we appear as dolls to a small girl observing from above, as models --_ Grissom's thoughts were interrupted as Catherine voiced her own.

"The great Rainone is in great denial. Of course losing a child in the hands of another could do that to you... You do agree that Natalie killed Chloe, right?"

"Yeah, I was just wondering what it must have looked like to her."

"Good point... I wonder when dear old dad started his new act. That must have been hard. Seeing his obsession with Chloe. Could explain her fixation on the doll... Chloe died in front of her, but came back to haunt her through the doll. Now she's trying to kill the doll."

"Maybe, but his preferential treatment of Chloe probably began before she died. Did you notice the newspaper article? No sign of Natalie in the photo... One leg for the doll and one for Chloe. His career and his 'lightness.' No room for darkness, for Natalie. He shows his disdain for Natalie through the doll: 'my sister who couldn't hold a tune.' Wonder if he expressed those thoughts before Chloe died." They reached the casino exit, and Grissom tossed Catherine the keys to the SUV, pulling out his cell and beginning to dial. "Here, you drive. I'll call Sara and the guys to meet us at the lab. Now that we're sure who she is, we'll work full force on a manhunt, before she finds another victim."

He shifted his focus to his cell phone as he heard a cheerful, "Hello, Gilbert."

Briefly a snatch of the song they had just heard floated through his mind. _You're nobody, 'til somebody loves you. So find yourself somebody to love. _He repressed a grin, "Hey, we got an ID..."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**1981**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Okay, girls, we're going to have a lot of people coming over soon. I want you two to be good. Lots of Daddy's friends will be here."

"Okay, Daddy. I'll be very good."

"I know you will, Princess... Natalie, you help take care of Daddy's special girl while Daddy's busy, okay?"

_He only wants her. I'm never his special girl. I was Mommy's special girl, but Mommy went away. I wish she'd go away_.

"Natalie?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Nattie, can we play house in the tree?"

**x.x.x.x**

"Hi Daddy!"

"Hey, Chloe! Love you, Baby!"

_He never says he loves me. I wish she would just go away. GO AWAY, CHLOE!_

**Flash**

A deep dark pool, spilling from the sidewalk onto the lawn, red mixing with green. A white shirt and floral skirt, arms curled upward as if in sleep, legs cushioned in the grass, white shoes still pristine.

**Flash**

Daddy's hand on her neck. More people, a white dress shirt, a red flowered dress, a brown paisley, a tan suede jacket over a light blue shirt, dizzying stripes of rainbow.

**Flash**

Flashing lights, men in uniform, a bed with wheels, a sheet pulled over her face. Daddy sobbing, women wailing, a voice through the madness...

"Natalie, come down Sweetheart. We don't want you to get hurt, too. Come down."

A comforting hug, but not Daddy's. Never Daddy's.

**Flash**

Crowds thinning, people leaving. A red pool slowly turning brown. Daddy bringing a white bottle with a blue label.

**Flash**

A strong, pungent smell. The red fading, Chloe disappearing. Tears streaking Daddy's face, red tips on his fingers, sleeves pushed up, hair falling in his face, a bristled brush, spots of light appearing in the red. A pervasive, never-ending smell.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Two Months Later**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Daddy, can you play with me now instead of Dolly?"

"This isn't Dolly, this is Chloe. We'll play later. I'm practicing a new song...

"I've got a pain in my sawdust. That's what's the matter with me. Something is wrong with my little inside. I'm just as sick as can be..."

_No! That's not Chloe! Chloe went away, like Mommy! How did Dolly turn into Chloe? Why won't Daddy play with me!_

**Flash**

Glass smashing, plates flying and cracking, glittering colours spreading across the kitchen floor. Rainbows on the light blue tile, patterns within patterns. Blue flowered curtains moving in the breeze.

"Natalie! Now look what you've done! I can't do this anymore! I CAN'T!"

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Earlier Today**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The miniature woman was undoubtedly Sara, sending his mind into an uncontrolled tailspin. _I just talked to her. She's planning to meet me at the lab... How? It can't be..._ Grissom physically shook himself, gently replaced the car, and pulled out his cell, hitting speed dial. _Come on Sara, pick up. Pick up! ... Maybe she's in traffic. Please, God, let her be in traffic..._

Grissom quickly dialled again, "Jim, it's me... I got another miniature. It's Sara... Yeah, I'm sure it's meant to be her but I just talked to her a little while ago. It can't have happened yet, but Sara's not answering her phone... Yeah, I hope so. Look, Sara's got a new Prius. It's got a GPS locator, can you follow up on that? I'll get the team to start processing the miniature... Thanks Jim."

Hitting speed dial again, he strode down the hall toward the break room, following Catherine's voice without really listening. _Come on Sara. Please. Answer your phone... Just pick up!_

"... can see where she gets it. You wouldn't believe her biological father. I think he even creeped Grissom out! I swear it felt like I'd entered a David Lynch movie, only there was no dwarf. He's created this --"

"My office. Now! Grab Greg." He spun on his heel, hitting redial yet again, listening to the rings, then to Sara's voice, "This is Sara Sidle..." Hanging up then quickly dialling again, he barely noticed the others filing into his office, their stunned gasps as they saw the miniature. Nick leaned over to gently lift the car, just as he had done...

"No! Oh no..."

"Is that... Sara?"

"It's moving! Is she alive?"

"Gil?"

"Sara's not answering her cell... I've got Brass looking for her car. Take that --" He couldn't even bear to glance down at the perfect -- he knew -- half-inch scale model of Sara, trapped ... _Focus Gil!_ "Take that to the layout room. Search for anything that might give us a location, a lead, anything... I'm going to find out how it got here."

Without giving them time to respond he strode off toward Judy's desk, returning his phone to his ear, pleading desperately with the woman he loved, "Come on Sara, pick up, please pick up..." He sighed as her voicemail kicked in once again. _Keep going Gil, you'll find her. Just track the package. Even if ... even if Natalie got her, they can't be far. I just talked to her! Maybe they're using Sara's car._

"Who was in my office while I was gone?"

"No one. Just some girl from janitorial. She went in... vacuumed... took out the trash, that's all."

_Janitorial... She works for us! I can get an address..._ Spinning toward personnel, he reached automatically for his cell phone to try again, feeling a momentary burst of relief when it rang in his hand, quickly dispelled when he saw the caller ID, "Jim?"

"We found Sara's car... Gil, I... It looks like she was abducted. The car's open and her keys, kit, and phone are all here, but..."

He didn't even hear the rest of Jim's explanation. _Gone..._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**TBC**

**A/N**: Feedback greatly appreciated! Nitpicks welcome.


	3. Chapter 2

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**Present Time**

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As the water began to flow under the car, eroding its support, a combination of wiggling, digging, and pulling finally freed one arm and her legs from the sandy soil, but her left arm remained pinned fast. _Stuck between a rock and a hard place._ The thought floated inanely through Sara's mind as she maneuvered herself to gain the best leverage possible in the tight space.

Pain pulsed through Sara's body as she pulled hard enough to fracture bone, but her arm still remained pinned beneath the wreck. As the pain pounded her body, the rain pounded the car. Her lower body was thoroughly submerged and the car was filling rapidly as the rain continued to fall on the hillsides above her.

Brief bursts of lightning allowed her to see the interior of the car as she forced herself to breathe deeply, banishing the pain to the edge of her consciousness as she had done so many times in her past. As her awareness of the pain receded, she turned her mind toward controlling the panic induced by the inexorably rising water. _You can do this. Don't give up... Think Sidle: What can you use? What's available? You've gotta get out of here... NOW!_

She wrenched off the rear-view mirror and took a deep breath, submerging, using the mirror first to try shifting the rock then digging around and beneath it. Suddenly another wave of water hit the car and she was able to pull free as it rocked in place. Pulling herself out of the watery trap, she didn't even notice as her vest floated away... She was free.

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**1982**

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"Natalie, sweetie, this is Mrs. Wetzel. She's going to give you a really nice home, okay? You won't have to stay with all those kids in the group home any more. You can live here for a while."

"N-No other k-kids?"

"Well, Mrs. Wetzel is a really nice woman and likes to take care of as many kids as she can help, so you'll have some brothers and sisters, but she'll take special care of you. Better than at the home, okay?"

"Natalie, why don't you come inside and we'll take your picture. Then you can be in my photo album. This can be your new home."

"My- my p-picture? Am I your special girl?"

"Yes, we'll take your picture to show how special you are to us... Just sit right here and I'll bring the camera over."

**Flash**

Laughter floating in with the breeze. Toys littering the floor: a yellow helicopter lying on its side; a red car with a white stripe, number 66; a white ambulance, 911 on its roof, blue and red lights; a stuffed horse, tan with brown spots, brown tail, one eye dangling by a thread. A doll, blond hair splayed out around a pink china face, red lips, green eyes, blue flowered dress blowing in the wind --

"See Natalie? Watch this - your picture will start to show up in a little while."

Colours darkening on the white background. A face taking shape. Dark hair hanging down over a yellow jacket, her elbow resting on her black bag.

_Different from Chloe... Chloe went away, Daddy made Chloe go away... that smell..._

"What do you think, Natalie?"

A ghost of a smile, "You made me come back."

x.x.x.x

"Natalie, sweetie, could you help me with the laundry? You can put the clothes in while I get the bleach."

**Flash**

A strong, pungent smell. The red fading, Chloe disappearing. Tears streaking Daddy's face, red tips on his fingers, sleeves pushed up, hair falling in his face, a bristled brush, spots of light appearing in the red. A pervasive, never-ending smell. Colours swirling through her mind...

_That smell... No. No! I don't want to go away! No! NO! NO!!_

"NO! NO! NO!"

"Natalie, what's wrong? Stop yelling. What's wrong?? Natalie? Natalie! NATALIE!!"

x.x.x.x

"Love you."

"Love you too, sweetie, sleep tight."

**Flash**

A deep dark pool, spilling from the sidewalk onto the lawn, red mixing with green. A white shirt and floral skirt, arms curled upward as if in sleep, legs cushioned in the grass, white shoes still pristine.

Daddy -- no, Mrs. Wetzel -- saying love you, but not to her, never to her... Climbing a ladder to a tree house -- no, to the top bunk -- looking at the girl who stole her love. _Just a little push and she'll go away_.

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**Earlier Today**

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"Okay, I got it... A 2007 red Mustang totalled outside The Trip Wire Bar six weeks ago. Driver fatality. DWI. Car went to scrap. Lead CSI on the case -- Sara Sidle."

_Six weeks, April 4th... that was right after Cammie... I think I remember --_ "Pull up the case photos." _SHIT! I think that's her... that's definitely her --_ "Oh, my God. She was at the crime scene."

Nick was saying something about getting the car out to the desert, but it all faded to the background. _She's not even looking at the car. Everyone else there is focused on the car, on the blood, but she's looking straight at Sara... Why? Why Sara and not me? She must have known I was the one that caused Ernie to -- She mailed the last miniature directly to me. Why is she looking at Sara? ... Sara was still torn up over Cammie, I wanted to give her something easy, support her..._

A little of the conversation made its way through his thoughts, "I don't know. This just feels different."

"It is different." He remembered now, using the excuse of taking the camera to give Sara a slow caress, hidden, he thought, among the confusion of the paramedics and police as they went about their business. _Just a little thing to make her smile. Here we worried over what would happen if the department found out, we were so careful at first. I didn't worry as much after coming back from Williams, after realizing what she meant to me... Never thought the danger from my loving her would be physical..._

Lost in his thoughts he didn't really even realize when he started speaking them aloud and took no time to censor them. "This girl holds me responsible for the death of Ernie Dell. I took away the only person she ever loved, so she's going to do the same thing to me... It's not about a psychotic reaction to bleach, or some dead sister, or the doll." _The doll... not about the doll this time... this time, but..._ "NotUrLittleBisqueDoll."

Striding from the room toward the computer in his office, Grissom failed to see the stunned looks he was leaving behind, as the team silently sought confirmation from one another, aware of the magnitude of what they had just heard.

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**1987**

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"Mr. and Mrs. Dell, there are some things I should tell you about Natalie before you agree to take her on. Her mother died when she was six, and her four-year-old sister died shortly afterward in tragic accident, which Natalie witnessed. She's very quiet and shy most of the time, but several foster parents have returned her after she became a danger to the other children. She does really well in foster homes when she's the only child, though she has occasional fits. She's been in and out of various group homes and fosters since 1981.

"Some of her former foster parents have complained that she's obsessed with death and has a morbid fascination with any car accident, crime scene, or other death she sees either on the street or in the news. This is probably understandable in light of the early deaths in her family, but it may be hard on your other children.

"I know that you two have many other fosters as well as a son of your own. Are you sure you're ready to take on Natalie?"

"Honey, you sure she's one?"

"Yes, Ernie. She's a chosen one. She needs us. We'll do right by her."

x.x.x.x

"Here you go, Natalie, this will be your new bed, just right for a Princess like you. You put your stuff here for now. We'll go see the rest of the house and meet your new brothers and sisters. How's that sound?"

A slow nod, "L-L-Lots of sisters?"

"A few, but don't you worry, we picked you out special. You're a chosen one."

"Your special girl?"

"Yes, Natalie, if you're good, you'll be my special girl."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

**Earlier Today**

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Grissom found the team still where he had left them, pouring over the details of the model, their energy, if possible, even more focused than before. _I think I may have said a little too much back there..._ The wry thought crossed his mind, followed by a more sobering, _I don't care, as long as I -- we -- get Sara back._

"We've got an address. Nick, Warrick," he handed them a slip of paper, "I want you guys to head there with the police. It's been a few hours since I talked to Sara, but I'm not sure exactly when she was abducted. Natalie may or may not be there. We don't know how far away she plans to take Sara or even if they went straight there. Be careful."

"Yes, sir." He watched as they strode purposefully from the room toward the lockers where their vests were stowed. _I need to find Natalie to find Sara, but maybe the clues are in her house, even if she's not there._ He shifted his attention to Catherine and Greg, who were both watching him as if he were a ticking time bomb, just about to explode. _Yep, definitely said too much... Gotta hold it together if we're going to find her._

"Cath, Greg, Brass is at Sara's car. Looks like the place where she was abducted," he handed them a second slip. "Go down there and see if you can find any clues as to where she was taken, see if they have video surveillance, anything else you can think of..." Catherine met his eyes briefly in an unspoken promise to do all she could, then followed Greg out the door, leaving Grissom alone with the miniature, his gaze locked on the slowly moving hand. _Please, God, let her still be alive. Please..._

Grissom felt his mind wandering as he searched the model yet again for any clues, time passing without his knowledge. _Sand... looks like hobby shop sand, not from the desert, no location clues there... Sand blowing, swirling around in the downdraft of the spinning helicopter blades, Sara standing beside him, hair whipping in the wind, reaching out to her -- FOCUS, Gil! -- The car... I think Nick and Greg pulled everything we could from that, we know what car it is, we know why she chose it... A smirk as she called out to him, "Hey, Grissom... Could you come tape me up?" Looking beautiful, sitting in the front seat of a pickup, hands outstretched, smiling as he -- FOCUS! -- The landscape... rocks and hills, pretty generic, nothing to go on by the shape or type of rock, typical Vegas desert... Searching for a body among the desert rocks, hoping that the killer wasn't merely mocking them, trying to spend time with "the pretty one" ... Pulled aside by Sara as the search continued and the sun set. "Is this logical? ... Does this look 'helpful' to you?" -- No. Not helpful. This is definitely not helpful... I don't know what to do! Sara..._

The ringing of his cell phone snapped him out of his thoughts, and he quickly rubbed a hand over his eyes before answering with a gruff, "Grissom."

"Griss, this is Nick. We got her. We got Natalie. She's on her way to the station now. Warrick and I'll process the house."

He barely heard the end of Nick's speech as he closed the cell phone and headed out of the lab. _They got her._

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

**TBC**

**A/N: **Feedback greatly appreciated! Nitpicks welcome.


	4. Chapter 3

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The rain continued to pelt down, feeding the rivulets and pools, churning into a river of mud, flattening everything in its path. As Sara gazed down at the car that had recently been her prison, the mirror she had torn from it clamped safely in her good hand, she felt the earth start to shift under her feet, shaking her from the dazed relief of her escape. _Time to get to higher ground, Sidle. No use getting free only to be caught in a mudslide._

Each step was a struggle, as the saturated earth acted like quicksand, pulling at her feet and reluctantly releasing each with a sucking gurgle, the sound lost amid the pounding rain, howling wind, and crashing thunder. Slowly, painfully, she made her way up the slope of a nearby rocky outcrop. _Better to get to a local high spot and wait it out than to try hiking farther in these conditions._ Each step upward jarred her broken arm, and she fought to hold it near her body as the flowing water tried to wash her away. As she neared the top, the pull of the water decreased, until she was finally able to rest, leaning against a large boulder, meager protection from the pouring rain and swirling winds.

Panting, shivering with pain and cold, Sara laid her head against the rock face and tried to catch her breath. Her arm throbbing in time with her pulse, head aching from a combination of her fall and the drug, she listened as the roaring of water and mud grew louder below her even as the rain began to slacken. _Okay. Made it out of there just in time. Gotta stay here a while... Let's take stock, Sidle... Broken arm -- could be worse, you don't walk on your arm... Pounding head -- probably clear up soon, don't think I got a concussion, just got to wait for the drug to pass out of my system... Any other major injuries? -- Don't think so. Arm's the worst, take care of it first._

Using her good arm and her teeth, Sara managed to strip the remnants of her light shirt off her body, tearing it along a rip made during her escape, and fastening the long piece including the two arms into a loose sling around her battered left arm. _Okay. Good. What next? ... I'm so cold! Desert, ha! First I nearly drown, now I'm on the verge of hypothermia, great... Okay, got some shirt left, maybe covering my head will trap some heat in. It'll help once the sun comes up anyway._

Huddling in on herself, feeling the rain start to slow, she worked to regain control of her body, willing the shivering to stop. _Okay. It's not cold. Mind over matter, Sidle! Think warm thoughts... Warm fuzzy thoughts... Lying on the couch with Bruno and Gil... Warm sunlight soaking into my chest, warm boxer snoring on my feet, warm fingers running through my hair, warm kisses peppering my forehead... yeah, that'll do..._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**1987**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

A small train winding round and round, threading past perfect tiny houses, little people waving it on as it passed. One house catching her attention.

"It's here."

"Yeah, I made that of our house. Do you see the kids? Those are the chosen ones. Soon I'll make one of you."

"It's wrong."

"What's wrong?"

"You only put ten sticks on the fence, there should be twelve... The tree is too short, it should be taller than the house... The window curtains are the wrong color... There's no tire swing, why don't you have the swing?"

"You're right, Natalie. It's all wrong. Wanna help make it right? I'll show you how."

**x.x.x.x**

"Natalie, you can't push the other girls. You have to be a good girl."

"Your special girl?"

"Only if you're good. Why did you push Rosie off the slide?"

"I could see it."

"What did you see?"

"Like a broken doll... Hands curled up like in sleep. Legs on the grass. Red spilling on green."

"Natalie, do you see that a lot?"

"S-Sometimes."

"When?"

"That smell..."

"Do you see other things?"

**flash**

"Yellow tape -- 'Crime Scene - Do Not Cross.' Flashing lights, red and blue. A sky blue car, white stripes on the side, broken on a metal pole. Body falling from the window, black pants and red shirt, bald head. Green fluid dripping under the car. Red pool by the driver."

"That -- That was on the news last night. A drunk driver hit a light pole. When did you see that?"

"Bus from school."

**x.x.x.x**

"Natalie, what do you do when you see things in your head? Things that haven't happened yet?"

"I-I-I just see them."

"Do you ... Do you make them happen?"

"S-S-Sometimes."

"Well, you have to stop making them happen. You need to be a good girl, and good girls don't do things like that. Do you promise?"

"I promise."

"What if you made things happen small, on my train instead of with real people? You can take all those pictures from your head and put them in a model. Things that already happened, too. Okay?"

"Okay."

"That's my special girl... Let's make the car first... for practice."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Earlier Today**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

As he rushed toward a meeting with the serial killer who held the key to finding Sara, the thunder rumbling across the dark, saturated sky seemed to echo his mood. _Focus on what you know about her, Gil, blowing up won't help anyone... She's been shunted from home to home almost her whole life, no one willing to help her. She connected with Dell because he taught her, worked with her. Need to use that..._

He stopped by the reception desk, "Have they brought in Natalie Davis for questioning?"

"They're on their way, sir. Just processing her now. It'll be interrogation room 3."

He moved down the hall, taking a seat on the bench, placing his head in his hands. _Sara was in the system too, and she let it strengthen her. Her experiences could have broken her, but they didn't._ Briefly he allowed the memory of Sara, surrounded by the deep purples of her apartment, struggling not to break down as she admitted to the horrors of her past. _So strong... What was different about Natalie? She too was obviously a strong woman, but ... Psychopath? Sociopath? If so, it would be important to focus on her, feed into her feeling of being special, a 'chosen one' as Ernie called them... Approach like Ernie, not like her father._

He raised his head as Brass walked up, followed by two officers escorting Natalie. Without saying a word, he stood and joined Jim at the observation window, allowing the officers to settle her at the table, and watching as she got comfortable. Brass was quietly seething beside him. _You made a grave mistake when you chose to mess with Sara, Natalie. This is a side of Jim rarely glimpsed._ The thought would have amused him if he wasn't so close to the boiling point himself.

Brass simmered over first, "I don't want to waste time screwing around with this nutcase. I'm going to get some bleach and drip it on her until she gives up the location. And they can't accuse us of police brutality for that."

_God, I understand the sentiment... but it won't help Sara. -- Natalie wanted my attention, well she's got it._ He turned to his friend, "I want to talk to her, Jim. Alone." Something of his determination must have shone through his eyes. After a moment, Brass simply nodded and watched as Grissom walked in to greet the woman who had stolen his life.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**1991**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Mr. Dell, I'm sorry to hear about your wife. Unfortunately, with you working full time and already caring for a teenage son, you no longer meet the requirements for fostering."

"She loved them kids. It's hard."

"I understand Mr. Dell."

"We only got six left. Can I keep 'em 'til you find 'em new homes?"

"Sure, you two did wonders for those kids. I'm so impressed with Natalie's progress in particular. Yours is the first home with multiple children where she's been able to remain more than a week or two. Whatever method you used, it definitely seemed to work."

"Gave her attention. Let 'er help me out. She's good with her hands. Good memory too."

"Well, it would be good for her if you can keep in touch with her. I know you can't continue to care for her, but it would be good for her to know she's still special to you."

"Yeah, my special girl. The one thing I done right."

**x.x.x.x**

"Natalie, I gotta let you go, sweetie. They won't let me keep you now that momma's dead and Lionel's in trouble and I gotta work to pay off her damn hospital bills, not that them fancy doctors did 'er any good."

"I-I-I've got to g-g-go away?"

"Yes, honey, but I still want to see you, whenever you need me. You know the number, you call whenever you want. Maybe we can work together on weekends, build some more models. 'Kay?"

"I'm still your special girl?"

"Yes, honey, you'll always be my special girl. Love you."

"Love you too."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Earlier Today**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

_I can't believe I... I screwed it up. I knew -- KNEW -- not to make it about Sara. I knew it. But it IS about her... How could I find out where she is without making it about her? I don't know. I just don't know..._ As Grissom berated himself, part of him watched in fascination as the officer guided Natalie down the hall, still muttering that dreadful song under her breath. She had slipped away into the depths of her mind, and he could find no way of bringing her back.

He turned slowly as Brass finally succeeded in gaining his attention, "I just got off the horn with Search and Rescue. We have three choppers in the air with night vision and IR. Now the weather's getting cooler, so a warm body will be easy to find."

_I know that tone. He's treating me like the panicked relative of a missing person... Well, he's not far off..._ Forcing a calm he didn't feel, he injected a little realism into the conversation, "If Sara's under the car, the metal will conceal her." _Sorry, Jim, I appreciate the effort, but..._

"Maybe she got out."

He barely heard his friend's second attempt to calm him, as an alert tone from the television caught his attention, "...severe weather... with the latest on this update." He moved closer, trying to hear over the bustle of the police station.

"Three thunder storms are converging and heading right for us. So, up to 3 inches of rain. They're expected to hit in the next eight hours. Flash flood warnings have been issued for the city and surrounding desert areas."

Half listening to the reporter, his attention was focused on the screaming tagline, underlining her words, making them real. **SEVERE WEATHER ALERT FOR THE LAS VEGAS AREA THROUGH THE REMAINDER OF THE EVENING... HEAVY RAINS ARE EXPECTED... FLASH FLOODING COULD BE SEEN IN LAS VEGAS...**

_Oh God! No! NO! --_ He spun and strode from the station, hurrying through the rain which had begun to fall, back toward the lab and the miniature replica of the desert surrounding Sara. _Gil, think! -- Okay, what does this mean? It could mean that she has a ready supply of water if she's not in the path of a flood. Keep her hydrated...or it could mean she -- No! Don't think like that... Never assume, trust the evidence... Natalie's models have always been perfect, down to every last detail, she'd have the topography right._

He grabbed a beaker from Trace as he passed, filling it hastily with distilled water, and almost ran to the layout room, barely pausing to flick on the lights. Not really wanting to know, dreading the answer, he slowly poured the water onto the hills above the car, hoping -- praying -- that it would run off, spill out on to the lighted table, watching in horror as it puddled beneath Sara, her hand twitching feebly then stopping -- stopping. _Oh God! God, Jim, I hope you're right._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**TBC**

**A/N:** Feedback greatly appreciated! Nitpicks welcome.


	5. Chapter 4

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Day**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The rain slowed gradually, pattering softly on rocks, dripping off branches, finally stopping altogether just before dawn. Sara gazed around at the surrounding hills and outcrops, occasionally lit by the lightning flashes that were growing ever more distant. _Where's the city? I thought the Vegas glow was visible for miles -- MILES -- around the city, why can't I see it?? Where am I?!_ She forced herself to take a long deep breath, releasing it slowly. _Stop that, Sidle! There's probably just too much rain and a big hill in the way. You're obviously in a depression, given the amount of water still flowing down there, you'll be able to see the city once you climb a little. No use panicking._

Forcing aside memories of being trapped under the swirling water, she concentrated on thoughts of Gil, watching as the stars appeared briefly overhead only to be lost again as the sun began its ascent in the east, listening as the sound of the water quieted to a trickle then disappeared. The wind continued to blow, quickly drying her clothes as she began a slow, careful descent over the slippery rocks and sucking mud.

_Geez!_ She stared down at the Mustang, barely visible under the layer of mud and debris that had washed up around it, unable to tear her eyes away. _Okay. What do I know? -- Gil and the team will definitely have missed me by now, they'll know something's wrong when they find my car, Gil knows it has a GPS locator... Then what? Did Natalie give them a miniature already? Is she planning to give it to Gil later? How much detail could they get out of it? -- Finding the address for the last miniature was hard enough, and that had unique architecture..._ She glanced around at the surrounding area, now glowing red in the light of the rising sun. _This just looks like desert. There's desert everywhere... What about Natalie? They know who she is, can they find her? Get her to talk? Then find _me_ in time?_

She began searching around the car, looking for signs of the track Natalie had driven in on, but the flood waters had erased any tire impressions. She continued to pace the area, a fierce debate raging in her head. _Alright Sidle, it comes down to this: Stay or Go? -- The car's almost completely buried, even if they have helicopters they won't likely be able to see it. I haven't even heard a helicopter yet, so they might not even know that I'm out of the city... Unless they get an exact location from Natalie, I don't see how they could possibly find me... Of course, Grissom might be able to "follow the dirt" if they find her car -- Then again, this all assumes that they know what they're looking for, that they have a miniature of my crime scene... I'd never thought I'd mean "my crime scene" in quite that way before..._

She forced her thoughts back toward the question at hand. _Okay, Grissom would say, "Never assume," so no assumptions about the information that they may or may not have -- It's up to you to get yourself out of this Sidle -- At least go climb a slightly larger hill, get the lay of the land. Maybe there's a road just over that rise._ Rearranging the sling to protect her arm, taking one last drink from a puddle formed on a rock, and checking that the mirror was safely stowed in her pocket, Sara made her way slowly away from the car, her feet sinking deeply in the still wet earth.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**1993**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

A new social worker sitting in the stuffed brown chair, a bit more padding falling from the bottom. Stacks of folders littering the desk, different names typed across their tops. New inspirational posters covering the walls, slogans echoed on the calendar and mug, pale pink roses in a vase, rather than a pot of live daffodils. The woman flipping idly through the sizeable file marked "Davis, Natalie" lying in her lap.

"Natalie, now that you're 18, you've outgrown the foster system. You'll need to find a job or get a scholarship to go to college. If you can't get a scholarship, I'd suggest beginning in the hospitality business, a maid or a waitress. That type of person is always in demand in this town. Maybe you can work your way through school. Do you have any ideas about what you want to do?"

"N-N-No. N-Not really."

"Well, what skills do you have?"

"I-I have a really good memory. I can remember a room p-perfectly, perfectly after seeing it just once."

"Well, a good memory would help you out a lot as a waitress, but you'll have to deal with a lot of people. You seem pretty shy to me. As a maid, you'd be able to remember where everything should go. Maybe you can work at a hotel... or privately for someone with a large house. There are also maid services that send you out to lots of different houses."

"Th-That'd be okay."

"Alright, let's see if I can set you up with a good maid service. Las Vegas has a good number of different groups. Would you prefer to work in private homes, office buildings, or casinos?"

"P-private."

**x.x.x.x**

"Natalie, it's good to meet you. My name's Sue."

"G-good to meet you, Sue."

"Well, as you can see I like to keep my home neat and organized, but I work full time, and often overtime, and just don't have time to do more than just basic cleaning. What I'd really like from you is a weekly run through of the house, dusting the corners, vacuuming, mopping the floor, scrubbing the bathroom, washing windows, that sort of thing. Neaten up if you see anything out of place, but mostly just the big things. Any questions?"

"N-no. That'd be fine."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Earlier Today**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The model, no longer moving, water puddled on its surface, seemed to mock Grissom as he stood frozen beside the layout table, flask still grasped in his hand, unable to tear his eyes away, until his pager began to vibrate on his hip. Blinking rapidly to clear his vision, he glanced down at the screen, "Nat's car in garage - W." He rubbed a hand briefly across his face, setting the flask down on the table, then strode purposefully from the layout room, heading toward their most promising forensic link to Sara.

As he entered, Warrick looked up briefly and nodded, "Luckily we found it before the rain washed --" He cut himself off as Grissom involuntarily turned to stare at the water sheeting down the garage window, scattering wavy reflections across the room. Warrick visibly shook himself, "I've gotten basic samples of the dirt to Hodges, and he's headed to the station right now to get samples from Natalie. I was just going to start on the interior."

Grissom forced his gaze from the window, _Just concentrate on the evidence, Gil, it's the only way you'll find her._ "Alright, I'll detail the exterior."

The silence was broken only by the steady patter of rain on the window. _Focus on the areas that would be least likely to be disturbed by rain or the wind of driving. -- What's that? -- Hmmm, grasshopper... looks like a common species, damn! -- And, who knows how long it's been there anyway. -- Keep looking, Gil. There's got to be something --_

The ringing of his cell broke the silence. He glanced briefly at the caller ID, "What'd you know, Nick?"

"Compassrod-dot-com, Natalie's been spending a lot of time in the desert. 'Bout a dozen different spots. All off the beaten path. No roads, just general locations."

_Too many locations for only three choppers, need to narrow it down._ "Hang on -- Warrick, how far was the last trip?"

"Give me a second. I'm gettin' it right now... 34 miles, one-way."

"Nick, get all those locations to Brass. Tell him to focus his search on any destinations within 34 miles." He barely heard Nick's acknowledgement, as he slowly closed the phone. _We're getting closer... Just hang on, Sara! -- Wonder what my pulse is now? Wish you were here to check, to calm me..._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**1994**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Natalie, I'm glad you're here. I've got to run to work, but I need to show you something first. A pipe burst over the weekend and caused a big water stain along the wall right over here in the living room. As you can see, I had to move everything into a big pile in the centre of the room. I've managed to get the stain out with bleach, but I just don't have time to put everything back. You've been working here almost a year, do you think you could put it away correctly?"

_That smell... No... No. No! NO!_

**Flash**

The red fading, Chloe disappearing. Tears streaking Daddy's face, red tips on his fingers, sleeves pushed up, hair falling in his face, a bristled brush, spots of light appearing in the red.

**Flash**

Sue, grey hair falling from her bun, curling in the humidity, blue eyes staring without blinking, plastic floral curtain flowing into the bloody water, her special necklace lying beside the sink, orange bottle of Herbal Essences shampoo leaning --

"Natalie? Do you think you can put this stuff away?"

"Sure."

"Will you be able to remember where everything should go?"

"Yeah... Top shelf is cookbooks, organized by region, Mexican, Italian, then Chinese, with the small tan pot beside them. Next shelf is records, organized alphabetically, except the Beatles which are always at the end. Next--"

"Wow! That's amazing. I believe you'll do just fine. Why don't you go start on that?"

"Okay."

**x.x.x.x**

"See, honey, this printer can print on plastic, then you just heat it up and bend it, and you can make yourself a plastic curtain with whatever you want on it, like flowers. Does this work for your model?"

"P-perfect. Thank you, Ernie."

"This a picture you saw in your head or did it happen?"

"In my head... That smell..."

"Well, I'm glad ye showed me. You didn't make it happen, did you?"

"N-No."

"That's my good girl. D'ya need anythin' else?"

"She always has a necklace, blue turquoise stones with silver beads, a silver bear in the middle."

"Hmmm... I don't know how to make that... Can you just paint it on? -- No? Well, I might know somebody... I'll see what I can do, okay sweetie?"

"Okay."

"Love you, special girl. You make sure you come to me if you see anything else."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Earlier Today**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Grissom's thoughts were again interrupted by the buzzing of his pager, "Got video - GS." _Well, you're not going to find much more here, Gil, maybe there's something on the tape._

As Grissom entered the AV lab, Greg nodded his acknowledgment and hit play. Sara appeared on the screen, slowly riding up the elevator, answering her phone as it rang. Grissom didn't need to read lips to know the conversation that followed. _Right after I talked to her! It happened right after I talked to her... If we had just stayed on the phone a little longer -- Don't, Gil! That won't help her._

Neither spoke as they watched Natalie step out from the shadows behind her car, Sara startling when she heard her name, then falling to the floor as the tazer hit her chest. Though the cameras provided only a time series of snapshots, Grissom felt as if each moment were passing in slow motion. Natalie tying Sara's wrists, struggling to pull her limp body, lifting her slowly into the trunk, backing out of the space, driving away...

He watched, helpless, as he saw the proof that Sara had been forcefully taken from his life. _Focus on the details. Anything... Anything to get a location._ A small flash of pride for Sara's mentoring skills flashed through him as Greg, without any prompting, stopped the video at precisely the right frame, zooming in on the sign that would give them a direction, another link toward finding her.

"She went west on Imperial."

Grissom pulled out his cell phone as he rose. _West. Imperial leads right out of town. She'd want to get Sara out to the scene as soon as possible._ "Jim, restrict your search to targets in the western desert." _Hopefully, along with Nick's locations, that can narrow it down enough... We're coming, Sara._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x **

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 5

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The wind whipped across the desert, pulling moisture from the ground, drying the landscape even as the sun began to heat the earth. Sand grains pulled loose from their surroundings, flying through the air, beating against Sara as she struggled to keep moving, her arm throbbing in the sling. Glaring sunlight and blowing sand made her squint her eyes until they were nearly closed, but she kept moving, gradually making her way toward the tallest hill she could see.

_Farther than I thought... or maybe it's taking so long because I'm moving so slowly._ She glanced down at the ground around her feet. _I can't believe how fast it's drying, but my footsteps are still clear in the damp areas. -- If I don't see anything to head toward when I reach that hill, I can find my way back if I need to._

She continued to glance around, making sure of her direction, keeping an eye out for any remaining puddles of water. _What's that? -- That's the first piece of trash I've seen out here... I hadn't noticed that before, but it's strange... Why isn't there any trash? How far am I from Vegas? There's always trash in the desert!_ Bending down slowly, painfully, tucking the mirror safely into her pocket, she reached out and snagged the folded brochure from the tangle of branches, reading "Spring Mountain Ranch State Park."

Flipping the brochure over, she saw a map, unhelpfully labeled "you are here." _Red Rock Canyon conservation area... That would explain the lack of trash and lights... But it's a big place, where am I?_ She glanced around but couldn't see anything suggesting she was anywhere near Spring Mountain Ranch. _Well, all the roads are east of Red Rock, Vegas is in the east, I should be able to see something from the top of that hill. -- East. -- At least I have a direction now._

She clambered painfully back to her feet, the mirror glinting from her pocket as she climbed slowly up the rock strewn hillside. Struggling up through the well-drained sand, already dry and loose, quickly being heated by the relentless sun, temperature steadily rising. _Bet it tops 100 today... just my luck. I nearly freeze last night, and now I'm going to be baked._

Sara scrambled carefully up onto a rock near the top of the hill, giving herself an unobstructed view of the surrounding area. Dry barren desert stretching as far as the eye could see, east or west, it didn't matter; no tracks, no roads, no buildings visible in the dust. _No! No! Oh no!_ Sara sank slowly to sit on the rock, glancing wildly around, praying she missed something, that something would show up, willing herself not to cry. _No!_

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**January, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Dark granite countertops shining, sun streaming through the sparkling windows, pots glistening in the rack, tiled floor glowing, every dish in its place, gold records perfectly straight on the wall, Natalie prepared to leave for the evening.

"Hey, Natalie, right?"

"Y-yes."

"Just wanted to tell you, you do a great job. Much better than my gold-digging wife ever did."

"Th-thank you, Mr. Delancy."

"Call me Izzy... You're a pretty girl, you know that... Very pretty... You ever been with a man?"

"H-how do you mean?"

"Honey, if you have to ask that, you haven't. How 'bout I show you what I mean?"

"W-What about your w-wife?"

"Eh, she's too busy being pregnant, complaining about her back, robbing me blind with massage bills. We can use Sven's room, she never goes in there... You'll be my special girl, and she'll never know. You'll see."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**May, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Natalie, honey, I'd like you to meet Annie. Madeline hired her as a nanny for baby Emma, so she'll be around the house a lot of the time. Can you show her where everything is, give her the grand tour?"

"Sure, that'd be okay."

"That's my girl! I'll _see_ you later."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Friday, August 25, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**!beep!** "You have .. one .. new message, sent .. Friday .. August .. twenty-fifth .. two-thousand .. six."

"Yo, this is Izzy, Izzy Delancy, like you couldn't tell. Hey, anyway, guess you forgot but, uh, I asked you to clean my sweats, alright. Remember, you gotta use bleach to get the pitch stains out, cool. Okay, gotta go..."

**!beep!** "Message has been .. saved."

**Flash**

A strong, pungent smell. The red fading, Chloe disappearing. Tears streaking Daddy's face, red tips on his fingers, sleeves pushed up, hair falling --

_NO! Stop!_

**Flash**

Quilted comforter, blue, red, white, forced over the foot of the bed. Clothes thrown over the wooden desk and chair. White linen curtains blowing in the breeze. Sweat dripping from his tight cropped curls. Clean cotton sheets soft against her skin. A panting, "O-oh yeah! You're my special girl! Love ya, baby!"

_For you, Izzy. That smell, for you._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Earlier Today**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Grissom forced himself to avoid looking at the news report that was holding the attention of the majority of the lab, watching the floods rise as they all waited for word of Sara. He saw Hodges, a book in his hand, making his way to Trace and watched through the glass as a sample was placed under the microscope, referenced, then marked on the map. _He knows what he's doing, best not to disturb him. He'll just waste time sucking up to me._

Striding along the hall, he made his way back toward the garage and the car that was currently their best hope of getting a precise location. As he entered the room, Warrick looked up from the back seat, he had a half-hopeful look about him that caused Grissom's heart to begin pounding in his throat. _He's found something!_

Warrick held up his recent discovery, "Grissom, zip tie, unlocked. I think Sara got out of this trunk. Speaker's completely ripped out from the inside. She could have reached through and released the back seat. And there's blood on the glass. May have been a struggle."

_She got out! That's my Sara!_ Grissom only half-listened to Warrick's theory, his brief feeling of relief quickly dampened by cooling logic. _But, if she got out and escaped, she would have called. No she's out there, trapped beneath a car, and I can't find her._ He forced his voice to remain calm, not willing to completely crush Warrick's hope, "Yeah, but none of that's going to tell us where she is. We need a store receipt, or a parking stub, something with a location on it."

Warrick remained persistent, "If she got out of this car. She might not even be in the desert. We might be completely off base here --"

_I wish you were right, Warrick, but Natalie was just too calm for that to be the case._ He had to make Warrick understand, "No, Natalie completed the miniature, I saw it in her eyes. Sara's under that car." _Unless she got out of that as well... Please, God!_

His thoughts of Sara, pinned beneath the wreck, were interrupted as Hodges called from the doorway, "Pollen spores off the bumper and Natalie's head both overlap in Red Rock Canyon."

_Red Rock Canyon! Finally, a location!_ He turned quickly and followed Hodges from the room, "Did you notify S and R?"

"Yeah."

Grissom strode down the hall, finally he had a purpose, a place to be. _Just hang in there a little longer, Sara, we've almost got you._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Monday, August 28, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

White sweatpants soaking in bright yellow bucket. A pungent smell permeating the air. A cry catching her attention...

"O-oh yeah! You're my special girl! Love ya, baby!"

**Flash**

Bright red door, white sign, skull and crossbones in the centre, careful black lettering, "SVEN'S LAIR ... KEEP OUT!"

**Flash**

Quilted comforter, blue, red, white, forced over the foot of the bed. Clothes thrown over the wooden desk and chair. White linen curtains blowing in the breeze. Sweat dripping from his tight cropped curls. Clean cotton sheets soft against i Annie's /i skin.

**Flash**

Daddy -- no, Mrs. Wetzel -- no, Izzy -- saying love you, but not to her...

**Flash**

Dark granite countertops, red blinds partially covering the sparkling windows, pots hanging from the central rack, tiled floor a patchwork of colors, gold records perfectly straight on the wall, Izzy slumped over the table, blood dripping from his tight cropped curls, white tank top displaying his tattoo.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Tuesday, August 29, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**!beep!** "You have .. one .. new message and .. one .. saved message. First new message, sent .. Tuesday .. August .. twenty-nineth .. two-thousand .. six."

"Yo, this is Izzy. I found my sweats being eaten away by bleach. Think they were in there a little too long, what happened to you? You should be here today. Let me know what's up."

**!beep!** "Message has been .. deleted... First saved message, sent .. Friday .. August .. twenty-fifth .. two-thousand .. six."

"Yo, this is Izzy, Izzy Delancy, like you couldn't tell. Hey, anyway, guess you forgot but, uh, I asked you to clean my sweats, alright. Remember, you gotta use bleach to get the pitch stains out, cool. Okay, gotta go... Hey there, Annie the nanny... "

**!beep!** "Message has been .. saved."

_"Hey there, Annie the nanny... -- Hey there, Annie the nanny... -- Hey there, Annie the nanny..."_

**Flash**

Sweat dripping from his tight cropped curls. Clean cotton sheets soft against Annie's skin.

**Flash**

Newspaper lying on the dark wood of the dining room table, Izzy's usual breakfast of bacon and two eggs sunny-side up, untouched. Fork lying beside the plate. Izzy slumped over the table, blood dripping from his tight cropped curls, white tank top displaying his tattoo. Marble rolling pin, a few blood stains remaining, tucked into the baking drawer.

**!ring, ring, ri--!**

"Hey, this is Ernie."

"I need help making some parts."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Monday, September 25, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

A perfect miniature of Izzy Delancy's kitchen and dining room, everything in it's place. Dark granite countertops, red blinds partially covering the sparkling windows, pots hanging from the central rack, tiled floor a patchwork of colours, gold records perfectly straight on the wall. Newspaper lying on the dark wood of the dining room table, Izzy's usual breakfast of bacon and two eggs sunny-side up, untouched, fork lying beside the plate. Izzy slumped over the table, blood dripping from his tight cropped curls, white tank top displaying his tattoo. Marble rolling pin, a few blood stains remaining, tucked into the baking drawer. Bottle of bleach under the sink.

**Flash**

A strong, pungent smell. The red fading, Chloe -- no Izzy -- disappearing. Tears streaking Daddy's -- no Annie's -- face, a bristled brush, spots of light appearing in the red. A pervasive, never-ending smell.

_No! She can't!_

A pair of tweezers reaching down, gently opening the cabinet under the sink, grasping the bleach bottle. A gloved hand reaching down, gently pulling out the trash compactor, bottle of bleach safely deposited, tweezers closing the compactor.

_Almost done... Almost..._

**Flash**

A deep dark pool, spilling from the sidewalk onto the lawn, red mixing with green. A white shirt and floral skirt, arms curled upward as if in sleep, legs cushioned in the grass, white shoes still pristine.

**Flash**

Dolly -- no Chloe -- sitting on Daddy's knee. "I've got a pain in my sawdust, that's what's the matter with me. Something is wrong with my little inside, I'm just as sick as can be..."

The flash of a camera, capturing an image of a broken doll, green eye staring, blood staining her forehead. The whirring of a printer, making a tiny detailed copy. The smell of glue, Chloe placed carefully, reverently behind the photograph of a man who changed her life.

_Not enough. It's not enough... I need the blood._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Tuesday, September 26, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

A dropper of blood carefully spread, matching the drying pool perfectly. Marble rolling pin back in the baking drawer. Bleach swirling, flowing down the drain, the smell covering the copper of blood, slowly fading as the sink empties. Bleach bottle tossed into the trash compactor.

**!beep!** "You have .. one .. saved message, sent .. Friday .. August .. twenty-fifth .. two-thousand .. six."

"Yo, this is Izzy, Izzy Delancy, like you couldn't tell. Hey, anyway, guess you forgot but, uh, I asked you to clean my sweats, alright. Remember, you gotta use bleach to get the pitch stains out, cool. Okay, gotta go... Hey there, Annie the nanny... "

**!beep!** "Message has been .. deleted."

Checking the room one last time, everything in its place.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Earlier Today**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Grissom continued to stride purposefully from the lab, but paused as he ran into Brass near the entrance, "Jim, did you hear? We've got a location, Red Rock Canyon."

"Yeah, Gil, I heard. Where are you going?"

_Where am I going? Are you crazy?_ "I've got to find her, Jim."

"I know ya do, but you can't go out there now. You can't search by car with the possibility of flash floods catchin' ya. The rain's slowing down here, but it may still be going strong up in the canyons."

"I know, Jim, but I've got to do something. There's nothing else to find, here, but out there, maybe I can... At least I can drive out to the park, be ready if anything comes up." _We're so close, so close. We can't get any closer than this..._

"Gil, listen to me, the park's only a 15 minute drive from town, 10 if we go with sirens blazing. Red Rock's a big place, and Hodges can't narrow the location down more than that. With the rain slowin' and the sun comin' up, we should be able to see better. I'll get all my choppers out there searching, but..." Brass could tell he wasn't convincing his friend, "Look, even if you go out there now, you won't be able to do anything but wait at the entrance for them to find something. Maybe there's nothing here that can narrow it down, but what if there is. You can help more here than waiting out there."

_He's right, but there's nothing here, I know there's nothing here. We would have found it by now if there was... It's been almost 10 hours... 10 hours, God, Bruno!_ "Alright, Jim, I'll stick around, for now."

He started to leave, but Brass called him back, "Hey, where're you going?"

"Home," he almost grinned at Jim's shocked expression and continued on to his car. _Sara'll never forgive me if I forget Bruno... even for her._

By the time he arrived at his townhouse, the rain had stopped completely and Vegas was bathed in the brilliant red glow of sunrise. Bruno was waiting expectantly at the door, and barely paused to give him a cursory lick before rushing out. After completing his business, he made his usual tour of the fence, making sure that no intruders had encroached on his territory. Task completed, he trotted back to where Grissom stood watching in the doorway, and thrust his head under his master's hand.

Grissom patted him idly, then filled his food bowl, watching in amazement as he inhaled his meal, then trotted over looking expectantly for more. "You're a good boy. Sorry I left you so long, but Sara --" Bruno looked up expectantly at her name, and trotted back to the door, peering out through the window. Grissom had to fight back tears as he watched their dog waiting hopefully for the rest of his pack. "She's not here boy, but she'll be okay. She's strong, your mom, a real fighter... Did I ever tell you about the first time your mom and I finally got together? You weren't around yet. It was a Sunday, about two years ago, and..."

Curling onto the couch with Bruno tucked against his front, Grissom continued to reminisce about Sara, hand softly stroking the short fur, massaging the wrinkles, scratching the skin of his companion, feeling a slight sense of calm trying to breach his fear. Hoping against hope that his phone would ring, bring him those two phrases he longed to hear, "We found her. She's alive."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**TBC**

**A/N:** Feedback greatly appreciated! Nitpicks welcome. Just go hit that little review button... you know you want to...


	7. Chapter 6

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The wind continued to whip around her, as the sun beat down on the quickly drying earth, the rock beneath her quickly becoming unbearably hot. Sara lost track of how long she sat there in despair, only once briefly seeing a helicopter flying far in the distance, unable to attract their attention despite her flashing mirror. _Okay, Sidle, get up! Time to get moving again!_

She allowed herself to slide slowly down the rock, landing softly in the sand beneath it. _Well, we're back to the age old question, "Should I stay or should I go?"_ She glanced back the way she had come, clearly seeing her footprints in the protected areas near the shrubs. _They'll be able to follow me if they find the car. Looked like the search was pretty far off base, though. They obviously haven't been able to get an exact location from Natalie yet... The roads are all to the east. East it is._

She glanced across the barren waste that stretched on toward the east and felt another wave of despair hit her, but she had made her decision and needed to stick by it. She started down the hill with a lot less care than she had climbed it and found her legs slipping out from under her, sand flying in the air as she rolled. _OW! Ouch! -- Get up, Sidle, get up. It's just pain. You've been hurt worse than this. Just get up, and keep going._

Sara staggered to her feet, pressing her injured arm tight against her body. More carefully now, she continued her descent to the flatlands below. She kept her eyes tightly to the ground, willing her mind away from the desolate view she had seen from above. _Keep going. Just concentrate on the positive, Sidle. You're pretty sure you know basically where you are, and the roads are to the east. Focus on the roads to the east. -- Ignore the pain. Face into the sun. Just head east._

Finally the land began to level out and her fear of slipping diminished. She chanced a glance back the way she had come, and saw the outline of her fall, but her footsteps were rapidly disappearing as the wind blew across the drying sand. _Shit! How will they find me if I'm not leaving prints? -- Think Sidle!_ Looking down she caught sight of the small rocks littering the sandy floor. Bending carefully, painfully, still clutching the mirror, she managed to grasp a couple of stones in her good hand, systematically piling one on top of the other.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**October 1, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Stacks of coupons by a blue wicker chair, orange flowers peppering the cushion, an old LP player on a low side table, rose coloured carpet covering the floor, simple lamps scattered about the room, solid walls made of glass. Mottled tan and brown glasses perched on a crooked nose, cigarette clutched in a gnarled hand, handkerchief peaking out from a sagging sweater. The strong smell of cherry liqueur as she speaks in a low, raspy voice, her speech punctuated by coughs.

"So you're the one the maid service sent over. I'm Penny Garden. I hope you're better than the last incompetent they sent me. I'm too old and tired to do my own cleaning."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**October 18, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**!beep! **"You have .. one .. new message, sent .. Wednesday .. October .. eighteenth .. two-thousand .. six."

--Cough, cough, cough-- "This is Penny Garden, and I am calling to say... you're ... fired." --Cough, cough-- "If I tell you to bleach the damn grout, you're supposed to bleach the damn grout." --Cough-- "Dammit." --Cough, cough, cough-- "If I wanted unreliable, I'd hire my junkie nephew to tidy up around here..." --Cough--" You know, that's not a half bad i-dea." --Cough, cough-- "Oh yeah, oh yeah, and I want my key back."

**!beep! **"Message has been .. saved."

_Fired..._

**Flash**

The old LP player playing her favourite song, scissors and coupons covering the rose coloured carpet, gold cigarette case on the round glass table beside the heavy, old-fashioned lighter, walls of glass covered in curtains. Pot of daisies on the wicker table, roses beneath the window, drugs hidden beneath the largest rock in the garden.

**Flash**

Mottled tan and brown glasses perched on her crooked nose, cigarette clutched in her gnarled hand, filling her with nicotine, handkerchief peaking out from her sagging sweater. Bottle of Cherry Herring by her chair, glass slipping from her hand, eyes staring without sight, cigarette burning away.

_Nicotine..._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**November 8, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

A perfect miniature waiting outside, a few drops of nicotine in her bottle, waiting, waiting... Barely distinguishable over the sound of music, the soft thud and splash as the glass hits the ground, a crinkling of papers, the crashing of a lamp from the side table. A loud, jarring crash as Penny falls through the glass wall of her house.

_No! NO! It's wrong! It's all wrong!_

Kicking out at the small wicker table, throwing the coupons to the floor, covering the shattered glass, colours swirling around her. The smell of blood filling the room, covering the sweet cherry smell, the acrid stench of smoke. -- Seeing lights go on at the neighbour's, glancing down at Penny's face, sneaking away as the sirens come closer, clutching the box to her chest.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Earlier Today**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Grissom lost track of how long he had lain on the couch, but his voice had gotten rough as he talked to Bruno, regaling their pet with tales of the woman they both loved. Bruno didn't seem to mind, relishing the attention after being alone all night, willing to remain and listen if it helped his master, who was obviously distressed about something.

Grissom's phone broke into his monologue, and he glanced briefly at the caller ID before opening it, "Nick?"

"I think I found a connection, Natalie had the number for the Desert Diamond Auto Yard written down below a sketch of Sara. That's the dealer that salvaged the car. Natalie must have seen their name on the tow truck, and --"

Grissom broke through this rambling dialogue to focus on the important questions, "Have you told Brass?"

"Yeah, he's on his way there right now."

"Where are you now?"

"I'm still at Natalie's. Warrick took our SUV, but I can --"

"I'll be right there to get you. We're heading out to Red Rock Canyon. Hopefully Brass will have a more precise location by the time we get there." He didn't even wait for Nick's reply, shutting off the phone, letting Bruno out briefly while he grabbed a quick drink, then heading back out to his car. _This has got to be it, the last link. We'll find her._

As he drove through the streets of Vegas, though it had been several hours, Grissom was still amazed at how quickly the water had dried after the deluge of last night. There were still puddles in low lying areas, but the street was dry between these. In the distance, he could even see a little dust swirling in the haze. He barely had to stop for Nick to jump into the SUV, and they were off again.

"Look, Griss, I'm sorry I didn't think of this sooner... I mean, I wondered how she had gotten the car to the desert, but it never occurred to me to check with the auto yard, and I... I'm sorry."

_None of us thought of it, so obvious... How could we have missed this? -- It doesn't matter now. We've got to keep up hope._ "Nick, don't. It's not your fault. Any one of us could have seen the link, and we didn't. It might not have even made much difference if we did check with the auto yard earlier. With all the rain, and --" This time he cut himself off, the goal was to stop Nick blaming himself, not make him feel worse about what might be happening to Sara. He glanced over at the younger man, now slumped against the door of the SUV. _God, Sara, please be all right. I don't know what it will do to him -- to me -- to the team -- if you're not._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**November 8, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Flash**

Glass littering the floor, pieces stained with blood, remnants remaining in the cracked window pane.

A sharp blade behind the second window to the right of the door, lifting it from it's frame. Glass shattered with a sharp blow. Red paint applied to the jagged edges still left in the wood. Pieces scattered inside and out, fixed down with small dabs of glue. The window slowly, carefully fitted back in place.

**Flash**

Penny, slumped out the window, cuts marring her face, blood running down into the roses.

Tweezers carefully prying the miniature figure from the wicker chair. A thin brush streaking red paint on the doll's face, dribbling it down her sweater. A blade helping position her over the bloody glass frame.

_Perfect..._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**November 9, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Ernie, I need your help."

"What is it, honey? Do you need some more parts?"

"N-no, not right now. I need to give this to someone... C-Could you br-bring it to her house t-tonight?"

"Sure, honey, I can do that for you."

"Thanks."

**!beep! **"You have .. one .. saved message, sent .. Wednesday .. October .. eighteenth .. two-thousand .. six."

"This is Penny Garden, and I am calling to say... you're ... fired. -- If I tell you to bleach the damn grout, you're supposed to bleach the damn grout. Dammit. -- If I wanted unreliable, I'd hire my junkie nephew to tidy up around here... -- You know, that's not a half bad idea. -- Oh yeah, oh yeah, and I want my key back."

**!beep! **"Message has been .. deleted."

**x.x.x.x**

"Hey, what's a pretty thang like you doin' down here in this hell hole?"

"I-I-I was j-just v-visiting Ernie."

"Ernie, huh, old guy like that. You come with Raymundo, and he'll show you a real good time."

Hands grasping her shoulders, pushing her back against a barrel, the strong pungent odour drifting from an open lid.

**Flash**

Quilted comforter, blue, red, white, forced over the foot of the bed. Clothes thrown over the wooden desk and chair. White linen curtains blowing in the breeze. Sweat dripping from his tight cropped curls.

**Flash**

Metal tables on rolling wheels, one larger than the rest, high sides holding water, electric leads trailing from it. Clamps above to hold struggling chickens, suspended from steel beams criss-crossing the ceiling. Raymundo, grey and blue uniform drenched, face down in the pool of water.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Earlier Today**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The silence in the car was almost tangible as both men sent their prayers speeding over the desert, reaching out to Sara, begging her to hold on, to wait for them. Grissom started as the scanner in the car buzzed to life, "All units, all units, this is Jim Brass. We have a location for Sara Sidle -- Ice Box Canyon in the far northwest of Red Rock Canyon Conservation Area. Air unit 3 is on its way there now."

Nick sat up straighter in his seat and spared a glance at his supervisor. Grissom knew they were both thinking the same thing. _Thank God. A place to look._

He switched on the SUV's siren and lights, pressed his foot a little farther down on the gas pedal, and sped on his way toward the conservation park. Soon, they were joined by other patrol cars, the road turning to dirt. _Good thing they make us all take those off-road driving courses,_ he thought as he expertly drove across dirt tracks, already rough before the rains, and through patches of sand that threatened to bog down the car.

The helicopter buzzed by overhead, letting the responding vehicles see that it had arrived, then flew ahead, searching over Ice Box Canyon. Grissom caught a glimpse of Greg's anxious face as the chopper passed by them. _Good. He'll know what to look for. He's seen the model. He'll know the topography, the look of the car, as much as anyone. He'll have a good search image._

They flew over the bumpy tracks, neither saying anything, both waiting for the crackle of the radio, hoping desperately that someone would spot the car, or even better, spot Sara herself. _Hang on, honey. We're almost there. We're coming._

Suddenly, the radio came to life, "Control, Air 3, we are 20 miles west of the 159 near Ice Box Canyon, red coloured vehicle is spotted. Fits the description."

Grissom looked up to see the helicopter hovering less than a mile up the track, and he put on a fresh burst of speed, pulling away from the pack of police cars behind him. Nick didn't say anything, just hung a little tighter to the overhead handle. _They've found her... I'm almost there._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**TBC**

**A/N:** Natalie's voice mail messages were taken from CBS's CSI miniature killer webpage.

Feedback greatly appreciated! Nitpicks welcome.


	8. Chapter 7

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Though it was beginning to slacken, the desert wind still sent small sand grains blasting into Sara's skin. Thankful that the wind was blowing in from the west, she continued to plod with her back into the wind and her face to the sun as it inexorably climbed higher into the sky. _Thirty steps, stop and build a cairn._ The movement jarred her injured arm as she stooped to place the rocks then slowly levered herself up again. _Keep the count, Sidle. Thirty more steps._

As the wind dried the land, the sun seemed to grow stronger, blasting through the remaining mist in the sky. _I can't believe yesterday there was water everywhere, and now -- Stop that! You are NOT thirsty... Just keep counting, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty. Time to build a cairn._

Suddenly Sara realized that the ground ahead of her was slightly damp. A slight depression, barely noticeable, where the floodwaters of last night had pooled slightly, depositing a load of debris. _Water! If I go to the lowest point and dig, I should be able to -- WHAT IS THAT?! -- God! -- Get a grip, Sidle!_

She hurried from the area, jolting her arm with every step, barely remembering to keep hold of the mirror in her hand, not aware of her direction or the distance she was travelling. _Stop! Don't waste your energy..._ She paused, panting, struggling not to be sick, and sunk to the ground in a small patch of shade. _Deep breaths... Can't afford to waste the water if you get sick, Sidle. Deep breaths... It's only a dead body. You see them every day. Don't panic. Breathe. Just breathe..._

She lost track of how long she remained sitting in the shade, but finally managed to regain control of her stomach. Forcing her mind from the memory of the body buried in the sand, the thought that it could have been her, she concentrated on her situation. _Okay, sun's getting pretty high, wind's dying down. Can't use the sun as a compass much longer... Those mountains look like they're basically to the east, and far enough away not to change as I walk... I'll use them as a guide._ Forgetting to count, forgetting to leave signs for the others, Sara set her mind on the hope of a road that lay somewhere ahead.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Thursday, December 7, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

A large flat desk, surrounded by lights and tools, dolls lining the walls, large screens in the background, each with a different view. Surrounded by Chloe, green eyes staring, red blood pooling from her head.

**Flash**

Hands grasping her shoulders, pushing her back against a barrel, the strong pungent odour drifting from an open lid. Mouth forced to hers, body pressed against her, smell filling her senses. Fingers groping at her jeans, tongue wet on her neck, a pervasive, never-ending smell.

**Flash**

Metal tables on rolling wheels, one larger than the rest, high sides holding water, electric leads trailing from it. Clamps above to hold struggling chickens, suspended from steel beams criss-crossing the ceiling. Raymundo, grey and blue uniform drenched, face down in the pool of water.

Gloved hands carefully peel the rubber bands from the mould form, tweezers reach in to pull the carefully shaped silver rack, a dab of glue is applied to the tip of the piece and it is gently manoeuvred into position.

**Flash**

A large white barrel, lid slightly cracked, a strong pungent smell.

The hands lift up a miniature white barrel, carefully painting the letters onto the side with calm strokes.

**Flash**

A deep dark pool, spilling from the sidewalk onto the lawn, red mixing with green. Dolly -- no Chloe -- sitting on Daddy's knee.

_She wouldn't go away, not like Mommy._ One last piece, tucked carefully into the door. _Chloe, always there, always watching._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Friday, December 8, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Grey coveralls firmly tucked into black boots, shirt unbuttoned down the front, white tank top peeking through, bending over the large metal table, reaching for the drain plug. Large white barrel releasing a pervasive smell.

_Just the flick of a switch._

**Flash**

Dark hair dripping, face hidden, slumped over the side of the table.

A gloved hand reaching down, flicking the switch once again, dragging the lifeless body forward onto the table, carefully placing the lid onto the bright white barrel, reverently removing the miniature from its box. Checking the room on last time, everything in its place.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Saturday, December 9, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**!beep!** "You have .. one .. new message, sent .. Saturday .. December .. ninth .. two-thousand .. six."

"Hey, it's me, Ernie. I just spent the last five hours at the police station. They showed me pictures of those miniatures of yours. Said whoever made them was a killer. I'm comin' over. To talk."

**!beep!** "Message has been .. saved."

_Ernie... police... Ernie... police... killer... killer..._

**Flash**

A deep dark pool, spilling from the sidewalk onto the lawn, red mixing with green. A white shirt and floral skirt, arms curled upward as if in sleep, legs cushioned in the grass, white shoes still pristine. Chloe, a broken doll on the concrete.

**Flash**

Newspaper lying on the dark wood of the dining room table, breakfast of bacon and two eggs sunny-side up, untouched, fork lying beside the plate. Marble rolling pin, a few blood stains remaining, tucked into the baking drawer. Izzy slumped over the table, blood dripping from his tight cropped curls, white tank top displaying his tattoo.

**Flash**

Pot of daisies on the wicker table, roses beneath the window, drugs hidden beneath the largest rock in the garden. Glass littering the floor, pieces stained with blood, remnants remaining in the cracked window pane. Penny, slumped out the window, cuts marring her face, blood running down into the roses.

**Flash**

Metal tables on rolling wheels, one larger than the rest, high sides holding water, electric leads trailing from it. Clamps above to hold struggling chickens, suspended from steel beams criss-crossing the ceiling. Raymundo face down on the table of water, grey coveralls firmly tucked into black boots, shirt unbuttoned down the front, white tank top peeking through.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Dust swirled in the downdraft of the choppers blades as the SUV came speeding up to find a scene eerily like the miniature back at the lab, but the rains had left their mark. _Oh my God! It's completely covered! Sara!_

Grissom slammed on the brakes as Nick pulled open his door. He barely allowed the vehicle to come to a stop before he, too, jumped onto the sandy track. They both rushed toward the far side of the car, where Sara's arm should have been visible had she been unable to escape, but could see nothing through the sand and debris which had piled there as the floodwaters passed.

He could barely hear Nick calling out above his own panicked heart beat and the pounding of the helicopter as he tore into the dirt, still damp under the surface. He didn't allow himself to think as he tore through the wet sand, bringing himself closer and closer to the answer for a question he didn't want to ask, but which reverberated through his head, _Is she in there? Please God, let her be alive! It's been so long, please!_

Suddenly he realized that Nick had stopped digging and was looking at something he had pulled from beneath the dirt. He watched as Nick's hand wiped the dirt from the name, seeing it appear beneath his fingers: **SIDLE**. The blood rushed to his head as he stared at her name, her vest, covered in sand. _Her vest. Not her. It's not her._

Nick slowly raised his eyes to look at him, and they shared in a slight feeling of relief mingled with a new feeling of loss and anxiety. _If she got out of the vest, her arm was free. She got out of the trap... But where is she? Where do we look now?_

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Saturday, December 9, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

A small train winding round and round, threading past perfect tiny houses, little people waving it on as it passes. Winding past scenes of death, years of visions. Ernie, pacing, pacing...

"I just come from the police. They showed me pictures of your miniatures. And they showed me pictures of some dead people. Cops know I helped you -- put some of that stuff together. They know I-I-I delivered that -- that package to that old ladies house, like you asked me to. They think I killed -- I killed all those people."

_But why? Why Ernie? He didn't kill them._

"You didn't."

"Natalie, did you kill them?"

**Flash**

A small hand, a little push. Chloe, a broken doll on the concrete.

**Flash**

A gloved hand, a marble rolling pin. Izzy, blood dripping from his tight cropped curls.

**Flash**

A latex-covered hand, a dropper of nicotine. Penny, slumped out the window.

**Flash**

A rubber-sheathed hand, a flicked switch. Raymundo, face down on the table of water.

"Did you kill those people?"

"Yes."

"H-huh... Why? -- They're going to put you in jail, honey. -- ugh. -- Unless there's somethin' else. If you had good reason, they'll listen to that. -- Raymundo... Did he put his hands on you?"

**Flash**

Hands grasping her shoulders, pushing her back against a barrel, a strong pungent odour drifting from an open lid.

"Yes... and that smell."

"And the old lady? And that pervert rock star? If they done somethin' to you, just tell me what it was."

**Flash**

Sweat dripping from his tight cropped curls, clean cotton sheets soft against Annie's skin, the smell of bleach still on her hands.

"Honey, I know there's some people out there that deserve killin.' And you... you had good reason, right? ... to kill 'em, right?"

"Yes."

"Alright. -- I want you to listen to me. What you done, is done. I can't fix that. But I can still take care of ya. I ain't gonna let the police get ya. But you got to promise me, you won't kill nobody else. Promise me you'll be a good girl."

"Your special girl?"

"That's right... My special girl."

"I promise."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Monday, December 11, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Aisles of food, multicoloured, stretching in front of her. A small TV blaring in the corner.

"In other news, Ernie Dell, a local maintenance man and member of the model train club, Locomotiveville, committed suicide last night as police entered his apartment to arrest him on a number of charges. Sources inform us that these charges include the murder of Izzy Delancy. We'll take you to Joyce at the scene now, and see if we can get confirmation on that. Joyce, over to you."

"Thank you, Rob. As you can see, the night crews are working overtime processing the scene. Our sources have said that he committed suicide after sending a full confession to the nightshift supervisor of the Crime Scene Investigations unit, Gil Grissom, who is here processing with his team. Let me see if I can get a statement. Dr. Grissom?"

"No comment. Excuse me."

**Flash**

"Love you, special girl."

"Promise me you'll be a good girl."

"My special girl."

_Ernie... suicide... Ernie... confession... Ernie... Suicide!... no... No. NO! NO!!!_

**Flash**

"They think I killed -- I killed those people."

"I can still take care of ya. I ain't gonna let the police get ya."

_Police... killer... Grissom._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Present Time

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

As he stared at the vest, Grissom became aware that others were arriving at the scene. Officers and rangers jumping from their vehicles, grabbing shovels from their trunks, frantically digging through the dirt. He pulled himself to his feet and stepped back from the car, allowing those with shovels greater access. _They're right, she might still be trapped under there, just because she got her arms free, doesn't mean she got out completely. But..._

Despite the frantic activity, Grissom felt sure that the presence of the vest meant she had escaped. He watched, almost in a daze as the windows were uncovered and the officers were able to peer under the car, but no one shouted that they had found her. Additional vehicles continued to arrive, and the officers worked with the tow truck driver to right the Mustang, and still no sign of Sara was found. He watched as Nick and a couple officers continued to dig in the sand around the vehicle, then snapped his eyes away.

Officers were now combing the rocky hill nearby, searching for her among the boulders and brush. _Maybe she got out and up to higher ground then passed out... but I don't think so. If she got out, and she's not here, in plain sight or calling to us, I don't think she's here... She'd try to save herself. She's very... independent._ He allowed himself a small grin at this understatement then forced himself to assess the situation around him.

Grissom slowly realized that the cars and officers swarming the scene were likely destroying any clues to her whereabouts. Their search methods would work only if Sara was still in the immediate area. _This time, it's not about preserving the evidence, it's a rescue mission, but ... we need to find out where she went._

He was vaguely aware of Catherine shouting to Nick as he began to scan the perimeter, beyond the rushing police vehicles and the wandering rangers, looking for any sign that Sara had passed that way. The earth had dried in many areas and sand swirled around them, but he suddenly saw a series of deep prints in an area of cracked and drying soil, leading away from the scene and into the desert, heading toward a large hill, a vantage point, in the distance. _Sara._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**TBC**

**A/N:** Natalie's voice mail messages were taken from CBS's CSI miniature killer webpage.

Feedback greatly appreciated! Nitpicks welcome.


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: **I added three new chapters this update, so be sure to start back where you left off (probably with chapter 5). Enjoy!

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The wind had almost died down, now just a gentle breeze gently running over her skin, but the sun continued to beat down, burning into her, parching her mouth, saturating the breeze with dry heat. Once she thought she heard the throbbing sound of a helicopter echoing through a valley, but maybe it was just the blood pounding through her arteries, or the buzzing call of a cicada. Sara faced the mountains in the east and forced herself to place one foot in front of the other, but allowed her mind to wander far from the desperate situation.

Not allowing any thoughts of food or drink, aware of her surroundings only enough to avoid new dangers, Sara tried to remember back to her first impressions of the team that had since become her family. _Cath was the first I really met, other than Gil... Don't think she really wanted to share him, even though they've only ever been friends. Maybe she thought I was a threat to him... So standoffish! Pretending she wasn't herself to get rid of me, trying to make sure I didn't take over her case. Always protecting Warrick..._

Slowly she passed from one bush to another, steadily progressing across the desert, heading east. _Warrick. I don't understand why he married Tina, I thought he and Cath would... I guess Nick's abduction caused us to all re-evaluate our priorities, and he decided it was time to live life. Maybe the thing with Cath was moving too slowly, or was deferred because of the damn rulebook... Thank God, Gil's priorities shifted away from that, though we'll have to deal with it sometime, I suppose..._ Her mind wandered from Warrick and back to that first Sunday, and the feeling of infinite possibilities that had opened up in front of her, when Grissom finally decided that he knew what to do about "this."

After a while, she brought her mind back to impressions of her other team members. _Hmmm... first thoughts on Nick... I guess I first met him when he was tossing dummies off the roof at Griss, but I don't think that really counts. No, probably the faked kidnapping that went wrong, that's when I really got to know Nick... Competitive, but fun. The annoying brother. That relationship hasn't really changed much, but ... grown, I guess._ One foot in front of the other, plodding steadily east as the sun continued its path across the sky.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**December 13, 2006**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

A fire crackling happily, vases of flowers on the mantle-like shelf, books carefully organized by topic, designer shelves holding an eclectic collection of art pieces, newspaper folded on the desk. Another vase on the coffee table, paisley rug beneath, two square tan chairs, a tan bed for a psychiatrist's patient, and a long black couch.

"Hi, Natalie, I'm Dr. Tallman. You need to dust everything in the living area, vacuum the carpet, and change the water in the flower vases. Put in just a drop or two of bleach to keep the flowers alive longer. Be sure to finish by 4:00 so I can take my afternoon nap on schedule."

"Th-that will be fine."

**x.x.x.x**

White vase, short, rounded bottom, tall stalks, red gladiolus sprayed in a wedge. A taller vase, blue glass, straight sides, pink daisies and tulips sprawling haphazardly. A green vase, similar to the blue, a mix of orange and tiger lilies set on green leaves.

Smell permeating the room as a bottle is opened, liquid added to the vases. The flowers droop like melted rubber.

**Flash**

A strong, pungent smell. The red fading, Chloe disappearing. Tears streaking Daddy's face, red tips on his fingers, sleeves pushed up, hair falling in his face, a bristled brush, spots of light appearing in the red. A pervasive, never-ending smell.

"Don't worry dear. You just put in a little too much bleach. I'll get more flowers tomorrow."

Dark curls framing her face, hands shaking slightly under the tray, white ceramic tea set, one cup, small pot, milk jug, sugar bowl, a silver spoon, two cookies.

"It's time for my nap now. You lock the door on your way out. Next week, you can just use a little less bleach."

Laying on the couch, covering her eyes with the pillow, tea set resting beside her. A grey cat sampling from the milk jug, leaping onto the bookshelf, settling into a favourite spot.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

January 12, 2006

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

One last time dusting the bookshelves, vacuuming the paisley rug, carefully adding a few drops to the flowers. A carefully laid trap, a timer set.

A perfect miniature, grey cat, milk in his whiskers, behind his favourite section of art books, each spine labelled neatly. Tea tray sitting on the two-tiered coffee table, white oval vase of mixed flowers beside it, twisted wood spiralling upward, paisley rug beneath, surrounded by two square tan chairs, a tan bed for a psychiatrist's patient, and a long black couch. Just a few more touches, everything in its place.

**Flash**

Short white vase, rounded bottom, red gladiolus sprayed in a wedge. A taller vase, blue glass, pink daisies and tulips sprawling haphazardly. A green vase, similar to the blue, a mix of orange and tiger lilies.

Miniature flowers held close to a lamp, warming the special plastic, and the flowers droop like melted rubber.

**Flash**

A deep dark pool, spilling from the sidewalk onto the lawn, red mixing with green. A white shirt and floral skirt, arms curled upward as if in sleep, legs cushioned in the grass, white shoes still pristine. Curling hair sprawled across the ground, green eyes staring blankly.

**Flash**

Dr. Tallman laying on the couch, covering her eyes with the pillow. The pillow falling to the floor. Curling hair sprawled across the cushion, green eyes staring blankly -- Chloe.

Miniature lungs filled from a syringe, expanding slowly, sealing as the needle is removed. Tweezers carefully placing the lungs into the doll's chest.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Grissom stared at the trail of footprints leading away from the hectic activity at the scene as if it was his lifeline. _Sara._ In the background he could hear Nick offering to go with Sophia, going to search the roads to the east. He could hear the helicopter searching over the desert in the distance, Greg still on board. But the footprints, made so many hours ago when the ground was still wet, were what drew his full attention. Sara had gotten out, and she had left a path behind her.

_Can't just run off out here, gotta let someone know where I'm going._ "Catherine! I got shoe prints."

He scanned the area, looking for any sign of Sara on the desolate flat area between the ranges, vaguely hearing Catherine come up beside him. "She got out from under that car." _We knew that Cath, but where is she now?_

Catherine shouted back to the crew behind her, "Okay everyone listen up, we're searching on foot." Grissom scarcely allowed her to finish before he moved out toward the trail, still scanning desperately for some sign that the marks continued into the distance.

Catherine kept close behind him as he followed the trail, pausing whenever it was lost in the sand to scan for damp areas. _Looks like she kept close to the bushes when she could. Smart, Sara. You meant to leave this trail, didn't you._

The scattered trail of footprints led them to the foot of a large hill then started to climb, and Grissom could hear Catherine muttering, "Looks like she was heading for a high point, to look around." Slowly, they climbed to the top, occasionally seeing a slight impression that indicated where Sara had stood, hours before.

As they reached the top, Grissom couldn't help but feel some of the despair that Sara must have been feeling as she stood upon the hill. _God, endless desert... There's nothing to see from here._ He scanned the area rapidly with his binoculars, but saw no signs of life. Out in the sand swept desert, there was nothing moving, nothing...

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**January 13, 2007**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**!beep!** "You have .. one .. saved message, sent .. Saturday .. December .. ninth .. two-thousand .. six."

"Hey, it's me, Ernie. I just spent the last five hours at the police station. They showed me pictures of those miniatures of yours. Said whoever made them was a killer. I'm comin' over. To talk."

**!beep!** "Message has been .. saved."

_Not Ernie. Grissom was wrong._

A small photograph of Izzy Delancy holding a newborn Emma, a cushion from the couch of Penny Garden, the window of the chicken plant where Raymundo worked.

_Chloe, you tell Grissom. He was wrong. He killed Ernie._

A small newspaper, detailed print, carefully placed onto the miniature desk.

_One month, Grissom. One month to save Chloe._

**Flash**

"But you got to promise me, you won't kill nobody else. Promise me you'll be a good girl."

"You're special girl?"

"That's right... My special girl."

"I promise."

_I promise, Ernie... Not me... Grissom._

All the clues there, everything in its place. A tightly sealed box, red stamps declaring it Fragile and Confidential, a carefully typed label:

Gil Grissom

Las Vegas Crime Lab

3057 Westfall Ave

Las Vegas, NV 81956

_One month._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**February 18, 2007 **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Aisles of food, multicoloured, stretching in front of her. A small TV blaring in the corner.

"What happened to my sister was not just some isolated tragedy. There have been four other murders, four deaths, which could have been prevented had the public been warned by the people sworn to protect us. Barbara Tallman was the latest victim of a serial killer the LVPD has known about for months."

"What do they call him?"

"Well, they call him the miniature killer because he makes little models of his victims posed in the places where they died."

_No. Not me. I didn't do it, Ernie. Not me. I promised._

_Grissom. He was wrong. Again. He didn't save Chloe._

_I'm a good girl. You're special girl. I promise._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Grissom continued to scan the surrounding desert, desperately looking for some sign of Sara, some indication of her direction. Suddenly, Catherine called out, "Gil, look at this! Doesn't this mark look like someone might have fallen here and tumbled a little way down the hill? See how it's a little deeper here? The wind's blowing the edges smooth now, but I think this might be the way Sara came down."

He clambered down from the boulder that had been offering a vantage point, and looked at the depression Catherine was pointing out, partway down the eastern slope of the hill. _East, how did she know? How did she know that was the way back? She must have known, somehow... there's nothing to see from here, but she chose to head east._

Slowly, they made their way down the eastern face of the hill, but saw nothing else, nothing that would indicate that Sara had continued this way. He continued to scan as his mind wandered, _I wonder how long she sat on top of that hill, maybe waiting to see if a search was on its way... Her prints may have been scattered, but they were clear on the other side. The land must have dried a lot while she sat up there... If only we'd been a little faster getting the choppers out this direction._

His desperate train of thought was interrupted by Catherine, "I'm not seeing any more footprints, are you?"

"No." He continued to look around, hoping for a sign.

"I think we just lost the trail."

_No. NO! We can't have! We just need to look closer._ He picked up his binoculars and began to scan the area, logging every detail of sand and bush, hoping... hoping. _What's that?_ He focused the binoculars on the small stack of rocks, blatantly clear on the packed earth. "Cath, look."

They rushed toward the miniature cairn, his hopes lifting again as they arrived, knowing Sara was aware enough to leave a trail, whole heartedly agreeing with Catherine as she said, "This is better than a footprint." _Thank you, Sara._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**TBC**

**A/N:** Natalie's voice mail messages were taken from CBS's CSI miniature killer webpage.

Feedback greatly appreciated! Nitpicks welcome... Go ahead... Hit that review button, you know you want to!


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long! RL interfered.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The sun continued to beat down, parching the land, drawing every last drop of moisture from the surface of the sand, up through the roots of the thirsting plants, out of her skin. The temperature continued to rise, passing that of the human body and continuing to climb. As her lips cracked and skin peeled, lacking the water to produce cooling sweat, Sara's temperature too started to creep slowly upward, dissolving her straining control over her thoughts. Shying from the sun, now pounding on her back, Sara staggered slowly eastward.

Images, some kept at bay for years, assaulted her mind, the reality of the desert blurring in the glare of the sun and the distortion of the rising heat. _Cammie, trying so hard to describe her killer, blood rushing down her neck, saying goodbye to the daughter she never got to see... We got him, Cammie. We got him, but he fooled me too... Holding his hand in the ambulance. Clammy, cold... Not like Gil._ Her mind snatched feebly at the comfort of Grissom's hand clasped in hers, and for a moment she could almost feel him there.

Pain seared through her arm as she stumbled, loosening her control once again, and a procession of ghosts returned to haunt her memories. _Linley Parker, strong enough to identify her rapist, providing details enough to find the man, pointing him out in a line-up, the perfect witness -- killed when the evidence failed to support her... Suzanna Kirkwood, almost the antithesis of Linley, unable to gather the strength to confirm her attacker's identity -- killed because they failed to find the evidence to hold him... Pamela Adler... Kaye Shelton..._

Sara tried to force her mind from this waking nightmare, away from death, remembering instead the steadying presence of Grissom's hand in hers, toward the joys of the last two years in his arms and away from the pain of the past. At times, she would succeed for a short while, then images of death would return, chasing away the temporary peace. She stumbled onward.

Tripping over a bush, Sara bit down on her cracked lip, and the metallic taste of blood filled her senses as a sharp pain shot up her arm, triggering even more deeply buried memories to surface. _Hiding never worked, but I always tried. He would find me anyway, once he finished with Laura. Only bruises if I was lucky, or maybe another trip to the hospital... Blood, there was blood everywhere... One step too far, and she snapped, beyond yelling this time... NO! I've gotten past this!_

Forcing herself back to her feet, Sara pushed thoughts of her father from her mind with renewed strength. To keep from slipping back into the abyss, she concentrated not on fluid memories, but on precise recollection of a series of memorized facts. _The first law of thermodynamics states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed..._ The heat continued to pulse around her.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**April 4, 2007**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Flashing lights, blue and red, screaming sirens, Ambulance, Police, Fire and Rescue, closing off the streets, yellow tape blocking the alleyway. Red Mustang, wheels in the air, shattered glass littering the street. Man in a white T-shirt, right arm torn and bloody, dead on the asphalt. Police techs taking photos, moving around the scene, images of the car, the body, the crowd.

_Grissom. He's here, not looking for me. He knows he was wrong, Chloe told him. Why is he here, not with me? I'm special. This is easy -- drunk man with car. Why is he here?_

A hand reaching out for a camera, hazel eyes in a face framed with brown hair looking up to meet blue through the dark mask of their sunglasses, a shared smile, a hidden caress. Hidden, but not from her.

_No! No! Why her, not me? -- SIDLE._

**Flash**

Blue jeans with a patterned pocket, black vest, **Crime Scene Investigation** across the back, wavy chestnut hair covering her face, sprawled across the sand, right arm groping from beneath a battered red Mustang, trapped.

_Ernie went away. Sidle needs to go away_.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**April 5, 2007 **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Large swinging glass doors, people entering and leaving, carrying silver kits, talking on cell phones, sometimes Grissom, sometimes Sidle, sometimes in pairs. Police coming and going. Everyone with a badge or pass.

The sun slowly setting over the strip, people continuing to come and go, a city that never sleeps has a crime lab that never sleeps, but the flow of people slowing to a trickle. The cars in the lot dwindling. Grissom is still there. Sidle is still there. She stays, waiting, watching.

A large white van, **Platinum Maids** in black letters above the silhouette of a woman with an apron and a vacuum cleaner, two women climbing out, unloading their carts, and strolling into the building. The small receptionist looks up, and waves. They enter unhindered, carts unchecked.

_Platinum Maids_.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**April 6, 2007 **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Ooh-ee! Izzy Delancy! Hoity-toity, hmm? It's a real shame what happened to him, huh? Were you there for all that nonsense?"

**Flash**

Newspaper lying on the dark wood of the dining room table, breakfast of bacon and two eggs sunny-side up, untouched, fork lying beside the plate. Marble rolling pin, a few blood stains remaining, tucked into the baking drawer. Izzy slumped over the table, blood dripping from his tight cropped curls, white tank top displaying his tattoo.

_No! No! I wasn't working there, that's what she means. No. Wasn't there._

"Too bad, huh?" A tittering giggle.

_No, not too bad. Good. Izzy went away, it's good._

"You're a little lawbreaker. Says here, you ... uh ... prefer to be paid in cash. You like working of the books, huh? Good ol' Uncle Sam probably not too happy about that, huh?"

"Th-that's ... because... I-I --"

"Uh, uh, ooh, uh, uh." A disparaging laugh. "You speak English, you got all your papers. No, fine. It's fine. But in seriousness, you wouldn't mind having your fingerprints done? See, we were lucky enough to get a contract for the municipal buildings downtown. You know, mayor's office, police department."

"Yeah."

**Flash**

Fingers encased in gloves, carefully holding a small doll, painting details onto her face.

"But, you know, they require a background check for anyone going to work in that building, even temps."

**Flash**

Ernie pacing back and forth, back and forth, "They think I killed -- I killed all those people."

_They got it wrong, not Ernie. Grissom was wrong._

"Sure. That'd be okay."

"Yeah... Listen, hon, you seem like a real nice girl, real nice, but we're called Platinum Maids for a reason. I- I just don't see the sparkle."

_No! No... I need this job..._

"No. No, I'm very good... And I have exceptional attention to detail."

"You clean in between the blinds?"

"No. More like memory. I can see a room one time and remember where everything is."

"After just one time?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Okay. Describe the reception area."

**Flash**

"There's a lavender orchid on the reception desk. Its top bloom is about to open."

**Flash**

"A glass coffee cup with a chip on the edge, a half inch of coffee still in the cup."

**Flash**

"Cut glass bowl full of chocolate kisses -- two gold, one purple."

**Flash**

"A glass vase with a rose etched in the glass, three leaves etched on its stalk."

"You sit tight. I got some choices for you."

**x.x.x.x**

"Okay, we have contracts with the Justice Department where you mostly clean up the offices and trial chambers but not too much mess, the Police Department where you mostly clean up after drunks and disorderly suspects that have trashed the interview rooms, and the Crime Lab where who knows what you'll be cleaning up, lots of strange stuff happens over there."

"The C-Crime Lab... sounds fun."

"Okay... If you're sure, that would be great! Most people hate working there... think it's hazardous." A dismissive laugh. "Okay. Well, I'll let you know when your background check goes through and then you can start right away."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The sun baked the sand, heat radiating down from above and up from below, saturating the air around them. Catherine by his side, officers following at a distance, Grissom continued to follow the trail of cairns across the desert. _East, still heading east, toward the road._ Each cairn raised his hopes, but provided no clues as to how long ago Sara had passed this way, and the temperature continued to climb.

Grissom's thoughts echoed Catherine as she greeted each new cairn with a "Good girl." _Thank you, Sara... We'll find you, just hang on, we're on our way._

At first, what he was seeing did not quite register, a hiking boot lying discarded perhaps, some clothes nearby. He quickly brought the binoculars back toward the boot, this time _seeing_ what lay in the place where the next cairn should have been. "Oh no." _God! No!_ Grissom broke into a run, hoping against hope that it was all a mirage.

Frantically, he began digging around the body, Catherine joining him, neither bothering with crime scene protocol as they scrambled to gain a look at the face. Their hands brushed away the concealing dirt, Catherine confirming what his eyes were telling him, "It's not her." _Not her. It's not her... Thank you God! It's not her._

Still on his knees beside the body, Grissom barely noticed as Catherine stood and radioed back to the nearby officers. His eyes continued to scan the area, relief fading slowly from his body. _It's not her, but where is she? Where's the trail? Was she even the one to make those cairns? Why do they stop here?_ He rose stiffly as the officers arrived to begin processing the new scene and walked slowly away, gazing eastward. _She must have left them... It couldn't have been that hiker, he was obviously washed down in a flash flood from somewhere higher up. Why do they stop? Did she find him? Did it disturb her that much? -- Where are you, Sara?_

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**April 13, 2007 **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**!beep!** "You have .. one .. new message .. and .. one .. saved message. New message, sent .. Friday .. April .. thirteenth .. two-thousand .. seven."

"Natalie, this is Rochelle Dorley with Platinum Maids. You're background check went through just fine, no problems at all. Not even a speeding ticket! You can start work Monday, just give me a call to confirm."

**!beep!** "Message has been .. deleted."

_Monday._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**April 16, 2007 **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"You're the new girl, Natalie, right?"

"Y-yeah."

"Well, you can do Dr. Grissom's office... We always give that one to the newbies."

"G-Grissom?"

"Yeah, he's a bit of an odd one. Just don't throw away anything, no matter how gross it looks, unless it's in the trash already. Be careful dusting in there, lots of breakable stuff. And don't mess with his spider..."

"O-Okay."

"It's right through there."

Rows of shelves standing out from the walls, lined with jars, filled with animals, bones, unidentifiable bits and pieces. Glass cases full of butterflies on the wall, a special case with a single mounted tarantula directly behind the chair. A desk covered with haphazard stacks of paper, inbox overflowing onto the surface, a large book open in the middle, "Delusional Psychosis - the James Tilly Matthews case-study." Photos of Chloe scattered beside it.

Plexiglass boxes, all in a line. Four perfect miniatures locked inside.

_Grissom. He does care. He knows he was wrong. He's looking for me._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**April 27, 2007**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Aisles of food, multicoloured, stretching in front of her. A small TV blaring in the corner.

"...stunned by the death of former top-ranked junior middleweight Lorenzo "Happy" Morales, whose body was found floating in a pool late last night at the Sugarcane Ranch Brothel in Bryant County. Morales, best known for his ability to take a punch, was reportedly attempting a comeback to boxing. LVPD is investigating the incident, which they are treating as a homicide."

_LVPD. Grissom... Grissom with Sidle! No!_

A clear pool slowly creeping across the floor, chasing her back. A strong, pungent smell filling the air.

**Flash**

The red fading, Chloe disappearing. Tears streaking Daddy's face, red tips on his fingers, sleeves pushed up, hair falling in his face, a bristled brush, spots of light appearing in the red. A pervasive, never-ending smell.

_No! No! No!_

A burst of fresh air, colours swirling overhead, people crowding to see the show.

**Flash**

Coloured spotlights flashing over the stage, steam billowing up from below, thousands of people cheering and screaming.

_No! No!_

**Flash**

Blue jeans with a patterned pocket, black vest, **Crime Scene Investigation** across the back, wavy chestnut hair covering her face, sprawled across the sand, right arm groping from beneath a battered red Mustang, trapped. Trapped in the desert.

_Sidle. Sara Sidle. Grissom took Ernie, I'll take Sara... Then he'll just have me. Me. I'm special. His special girl._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

With no trail to follow, Grissom helped process the scene, trying to identify the man who lost his life in a desert flood. Thoughts of Sara stayed with him, but the familiar tasks of the crime scene helped calm his thoughts. The sun slowly sunk in the sky, but the temperature remained high.

Drinking from a bottle of water provided by a police officer, Grissom couldn't help but turn his thoughts to Sara, struggling across the desert with no relief. _Even just being out here for a couple hours, I'm feeling the heat. How much worse must it be for her? Is she safe? Please let her be safe._ He forced himself to return to the drowned man.

As he flipped through the wallet of the man, listening to Jim's findings, Grissom tried to keep his mind focused on the case, but he couldn't help but wonder what if... _what if it had been Sara._ He closed his phone and turned to update Catherine, "Park Service issued him a camping permit. He was supposed to hike out this morning."

He barely heard her reply, "Must have gotten caught in the flash flood. Couldn't make it to higher ground."

The mystery solved, he could no longer distract himself from thoughts of Sara, lost and alone in the desert. _She may have survived the flash flood, she got that much farther than poor Matthew Hoffman, but where is she now?_ "Where is she, Catherine? It's 110 degrees. She's been out here all day, without water. She's disoriented, she's ... dehydrated."

Catherine gave him the only hope she could, "She's a survivor."

The words echoed in his head. _She's a survivor. A survivor._ Images of Sara flowed through his mind, Sara pushing to crack a case, standing up for a victim, shouting down the opposition, breaking away from Adam Trent... sitting on her couch, describing her childhood, forcing herself beyond the memories. _Yes. She's a survivor._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**TBC**

**A/N:** Feedback greatly appreciated! Nitpicks welcome... Go ahead... Hit that review button, you know you want to!


	11. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** I owe **smacky30** a huge thank you for her excellent beta job on this chapter! I know it's not easy to start beta reading in the middle of a WIP, but her wonderful suggestions greatly improved this work.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

The heat continued to grow; the sun's energy magnified by the reflective sand, absorbed by the rocks, held down by the mists of evaporating rain. Mirages danced in her vision, flickering along the rising waves of heat; pools of water that were not really there, tall trees stretching into the sky. Her body sore, weak, and tired beyond anything she could have ever imagined, she stumbled across the desert. Her mantra had become engraved on her psyche, _Don't stop. Keep going. You're almost there. Don't stop..._

Occasionally images of remembered pain would flash through her mind, but these were no more substantial than the ground beneath her feet, which shifted continuously in an effort to knock her down. Her muscles grew weaker as the life was drained from them one hard won step at a time, her will forcing her to rise again and again. _Get up. Get up. Don't stop. Don't sleep. Stay awake._

She continued to move eastward, avoiding the direct glare of the sun by keeping it at her back, the promise of a road all but forgotten. She tried to focus by forcing her mind to recall, with great difficulty, facts that had once been almost instinctive. The line between thought and speech began to fade as the heat reached her head, "Three times four is ... twelve. Four times five is ... twenty... ugh!" Her hand automatically collected the fallen mirror as she pushed herself back to her feet yet again. "Four times five is... Come on! Four times five is twenty."

As her vision began to blur, growing black at the edges, she knew she was could not last much longer. She forced herself onward one step at a time, "Don't stop. Don't stop. Four times six is... twenty four... Get up, get up! Don't stop, don't stop!"

Her legs shaking, she forced her eyes to see, to discover what was truly in front of her. A long shadow stretched out across the sand, wavering but present, a slightly larger bush providing scant refuge. "Don't sleep, don't sleep. Stay awake, just stay awake..." She forced her tired legs across the short space, collapsing in the slightly cooler patch. Her hand still gripped the mirror, and a thought came up through the darkness in her mind, _East. Roads to the east. Almost there. Must be almost there._

Using the last of her strength, she stretched out her arm, turning the mirror upward and slightly to the east, it's reflective surface aimed toward the roads she hoped were there. Her eyes fluttered closed, and a deep red shrouded her vision, slowly fading into blackness.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Yesterday**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Cars flowing past, pausing at the gate, windows opening, hands reaching out to pull a ticket. Apple red, midnight black, sea green, sky blue. Small sports cars full of young women, minivans full of laughing children, long trucks full of camping gear.

Her hands gripping the steering wheel, eyes watching each car pass, cataloguing colour, model, driver, license plate. _Not her. Not her, yet. Wait. Wait._

A silver car, new hybrid, causing her hands to tense. A man leaning out, pulling a ticket with a sharp yank, driving through the opening gate. _Not yet. Just wait. Today, she'll come today. __She always eats here. Just wait_

Cardboard box waiting in the backseat, perfect miniature inside, but her eyes never wander, watching each car stop, driver pulling a ticket, yellow gate slowly rising, the car continuing past her. Another silver car, brunette driver leaning out, pulling a ticket. _Sidle._

Carefully pulling in behind, following the car up through the spiralling structure, slowing as the car stops. Pulling into the space beside the silver car, keeping her face averted. Sidle getting out, lights flashing briefly, trunk opening, hands collecting her kit and vest, locks engaging with a flash and a beep. Sara striding purposefully toward the elevator, pulling on her vest. _One hour. At least one hour to eat. Need to be fast._

Gathering the cardboard box, heading toward the elevator, toward the white van waiting to take her to CSI.

**x.x.x.x**

Cleaning cart filled with supplies, cardboard box lying on top, waiting by a white van, **Platinum Maids** across the side. A distinctive stride, greying hair. _Grissom._ Blonde woman by his side, climbing into a large black SUV, pulling out into traffic. _Perfect._

Bustling activity in the halls, small receptionist waving, no one stops her, no one looks twice. Glass walls dark, but the door standing open, quietly closed behind her. Shelves lined with jars, bottles, and insects, everything in its place.

Almost the same. Almost, an addition catching her eye. A miniature room, shelves lined with jars, bottles, and insects.

_Grissom. He wants to learn. He almost has it, almost. Not quite. I can help him. He'll let me help if she's not here. When Sidle is gone, I'll be his special girl. Just us. Just us, when he finds out she is gone._

**x.x.x.x**

Elevator slowly going up, lights flashing through the gaps as it passes from floor to floor. **Flash** **Flash** **Flash** The doors slowly opening. A few cars left now, two parked side-by-side, one silver, a new hybrid. _Still here. She's still here. Soon. Just wait._ Fading into the shadows against the wall, small black device gripped in her hand.

The elevator doors open, a tall brunette steps through, cell phone pressed to her ear, large silver case by her side, listening as the voice on the phone talks, occasionally responding. Coming closer. Becoming audible.

"I'll be right there. I'll meet you at the lab."

_Him. She's talking to him. Grissom._

**Flash**

Blue jeans with a patterned pocket, black vest, **Crime Scene Investigation** across the back, wavy chestnut hair covering her face, sprawled across the sand, right arm groping from beneath a battered red Mustang, trapped in the desert.

**Flash**

Phone snapped closed, keys pulled from a pocket. Tail lights flashing, the trunk opening, kit laid gently down.

_It's time. It's time now._

Stepping from the shadows, "Sara."

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Staring out over the desolate stretch of land, feeling the heat pulsing around him, Grissom stood lost in his memories. Unable to aid in the search, he felt useless, barely noticing the hectic activity behind him as rangers and police continued to secure the scene of the drowned hiker. _Now what? There's no more evidence to follow, it's all been blown away in the wind._ He thought of his team, still out looking, scouring the desert beyond all hope. _Nick, Greg, please, find her. Just find her. I don't know what else to do, the trail is gone._

Suddenly the officers' radios crackled to life, and Sofia's voice filled the air, "We found Sara. North on the 159 at Turtlehead Peak. We need a MedEvac out here, right now!"

Not waiting to hear more, he glanced at Catherine. The two of them turned and raced for their Denali. Reaching it first, Grissom jumped into the driver's seat. Impatiently, he started the car, its engine roaring to life, and they were speeding toward the main highway, Turtlehead Peak clearly visible in the distance. _They found her. Thank you, God, they found her!_

His thoughts were echoed aloud by his companion, as she reassured him, "They found her. They _found_ her!"

One eye to the land in front of them, he manoeuvred the large vehicle around brush and rocks almost automatically, as his mind continued to burn with the sharp hope that had blazed suddenly on hearing Sofia's words. He tried to focus on that hope, to keep the doubt from creeping back, but the faint echo of her final communication still haunted him, _MedEvac, they need a MedEvac, but that's standard procedure. Please let her be okay. Please, God, let her be okay!_

The dirt gave way to pavement, and their speed increased. He could see the black chopper in front of them, lowering slowly to the ground a few hundred feet from the road itself, marking the spot where she lay. He pressed his foot more firmly on the accelerator, _They found her, and I'm almost there._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Yesterday**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Glowing lights from the city fading into darkness, clouds obscuring the stars, beam of the headlights illuminating a steady procession of white lines, flashing by.

**Flash**

Red Mustang, wheels in the air, shattered glass littering the street. Man in a white T-shirt, right arm torn and bloody, dead on the asphalt.

**Flash**

A battered red Mustang, doors dented inward, roof crushed, paint scraped clean by the asphalt. Wheels in the air, propped on a jack in the sand. Desert hills stretching out around it. Lifeless, for now.

**Flash**

A hand reaching out for a camera, brown eyes in a face framed with brown hair looking up to meet blue through the dark masks of their sunglasses, a shared smile, a hidden caress.

**Flash**

Blue jeans with a patterned pocket, black vest, Crime Scene Investigation across the back, wavy chestnut hair covering her face, sprawled across the sand, right arm groping, trapped in the desert.

White lines streaking by. **Flash** **Flash** **Flash**

A patch of coloured light ahead. _Almost there. We're almost there._

A slow turn onto a dirt road, then a sudden attack from behind, brown eyes briefly meeting her gaze, as the car spins out of control, coloured lights flashing beyond the window, swirling around in her pain. _NO! NO! NO!_

**x.x.x.x**

A gravel road, small bushes flashing by on the edge of her headlights, dust swirling through the air. Sidle, bound again, leaning against the back door, face marred by the burn of gravel, no longer the perfect image in her model. Voice trying to reach through the darkness.

"Natalie."

_She knows my name._

"Natalie Davis... I know who you are. I know a lot about you."

_No! No one knows a lot about me. No one except Ernie._

"You make miniatures."

_Ernie taught me. Ernie loved me._

"I've seen you before, right? You work in the lab, on the cleaning crew."

Bushes flashing by, dust swirling. Occasional flashes of lightning snaking across the horizon. **Flash** **Flash**

"So, sorry about hitting you back there. I guess, uh... I have a fear of trunks. In my business, you only find one thing in them."

_Not in the trunk, not this time. No, I promised. I won't kill her, Ernie. I'll be your special girl._

"We actually have a lot in common, you know? I was a foster kid, too."

_What?_

"Happy, happy, joy, joy."

_It doesn't matter. She doesn't understand me, nobody understands me now._

"I do know what it's like to be alone... afraid that nobody's ever going to be there for you."

"Ernie was." _Ernie understood me._

"Yes, he was. That's true, Natalie. I lost my father, too. I know Ernie loved you. He would not have wanted you to do this."

_I didn't lose Ernie. Grissom took him from me. Grissom._

"Ernie loved me more than Grissom could ever love you."

"Grissom? ... Oh, I know what this is about. Natalie. What did you put in the water, Natalie? ... Huh?" Her voice trailed off in the darkness, bushes continued to flash by in the dust.

**x.x.x.x**

A battered red Mustang, illuminated in her headlights. Doors dented inward, roof crushed, paint scraped clean by the asphalt. Wheels in the air, propped on a jack in the sand. Waiting.

Blue jeans with a patterned pocket, black vest, **Crime Scene Investigation** across the back, wavy chestnut hair covering her face, sprawled across the sand, right arm extended out from beneath the car. Everything in its place, as Sara slowly awakens.

"Natalie? ... Natalie, what are you doing?"

The flip of a switch, hydraulic jack slowly lowering the car.

"Natalie ... What are you doing?"

Dash slowly crushing one arm, legs pinned beneath the seat, window frame slowly pinning her remaining arm, restricting her movement.

"No... No... No! Don't do this!"

Pinned arm stretched from beneath the car, hand groping in the sand, the rest of her obscured. Desert hills stretching up around her, bushes and rocks littering the earth. Everything in its place.

"Natalie? Natalie... Natalie!" Her voice fading away, as the engine roars to life.

_See Ernie, I didn't kill her. I promised. I'll be good._

Everything in its place.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Present Time**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

Slowing only slightly, Grissom pulled off the highway, the spinning tires adding to the dust already blowing in the downdraft of the MedEvac blades. As if in slow motion, he saw two medics rushing toward where Nick and Sofia stood, and he brought the SUV to a halt. Slamming it quickly into park, he threw open his door and ran toward the tattered body lying in the partial shade of a tall bush. _Oh no, Sara! Please, God, let her be okay!_

As he got closer, he could hear the medics trying to rouse her, "Sara?! Sara, can you hear me?!"

He and Catherine slowed as they approached and he got a full view of her bruised and battered body, lying limp on the sand. _Oh God!_ He could barely hear Catherine over the tumult in his mind, but he felt the medics answer beat through him.

"How is she?"

"She's not responding. Respirations are shallow."

Watching their studied movements as they placed an oxygen mask over her head calmed him slightly. _Respirations are shallow, but she's breathing. She's breathing._

"Give me a large-bore IV prep now."

Unable to do anything but watch, he wiped the sweat from his brow, silently pleading for some response. To keep from despair he began cataloguing the medics actions, mentally reviewing her injuries, _Large bore IV, they need to rehydrate her as quickly as possible. As soon as it's in, she'll be getting help. It will help drop her temperature down to safer territory as well. Water is the main thing she needs now. They can worry about her arm later, but it's good to see she was thinking well enough to create a sling._

"IV's in. We've got to move."

"Still no radial pulse."

_No radial pulse, she's definitely dangerously dehydrated, probably nearing heat stroke and potential brain damage as well. Please, Sara, let us have found you in time._ In a daze, he watched Nick gather up the IV bag, helping the medics prepare her for loading.

"Let's go get loaded up. Watch the arm." Realizing there was something he could do, he knelt to help protect her injured arm, gently cradling it as the medics fastened the straps around her body, staying as close to her side as he could.

"On my count. One, two, three."

He followed them closely as they bore her toward the helicopter, staying out of their way as they loaded her in. _Please let us have found her in time... Please!_

"You're secured? Get that IV pump."

He could hear Catherine shouting above the beating of the blades, "Where are you taking her?!"

"Desert Palm!"

There was no way he was letting her out of his sight now that he had found her again. Barely waiting for a response to his shouted, "Move over! I'm going with her!" he climbed into the helicopter beside one of the medics. The doors slammed shut behind him, and he felt the machine lift into the air. His eyes focused on her face as they sped toward the hospital, _Sara, come on. Wake up, please! Please, God, let her be okay._

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**TBC**

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**A/N:** Feedback greatly appreciated! Go ahead and push that review button...


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